A  George  Allan  England 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
DR.  J.  LLOYD  EATON 


i        V  f 

>  (^uW  U^v^ 

th^^  J, 


CURSED 


1 


- 


The  witch-woman,  raising  crooked  claws  against  him, 
hurled  shrill  curses  at  Briggs — wild,  unintelligible  things,  in 
a  wail —  5V*  page  29 


CURSED 


BY 

GEORGE  ALLAN  ENGLAND 


AUTHOR  OF 

THE  ALIBI,  DARKNESS  AND  DAWN, 
KEEP  OFF  THE  GRASS,  ETC. 


FRONTISPIECE  BY 

MODEST  STEIN 


GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS  NEWYORK 


Copyright,  1919, 

BY  SMALL,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 
(IKCOKPORATED) 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  AT  BATU  KAWAN i 

II  ALPHEUS  BRIGGS,  BUCKO 6 

III  SCURLOCK  GOES  ASHORE    ...    %     .     .  16 

IV  THE  CURSE  OF  NENEK  KABAYAN  ....  22 
V  THE  MALAY  FLEET  OF  WAR  .....  32 

VI  COUNCIL  OF  WAR 39 

VII  BEFORE  THE  BATTLE 47 

VIII  PARLEY  AND  DEATH 55 

IX  ONSET  OF  BATTLE 65 

X  KUALA   PAHANG 70 

XI  HOME  BOUND 77 

XII  AT  LONG  WHARF 84 

XIII  AFTER  FIFTY  YEARS 91 

XIV  A  VISITOR  FROM  THE  LONG  AGO  ....  100 
XV  Two  OLD  MEN .     .  107 

XVI  THE  CAPTAIN  SPEAKS  .......  115 

XVII  VISIONS  OF  THE  PAST 125 

XVIII  THE  LOOMING  SHADOW 131 

XIX  HAL  SHOWS  His  TEETH 139 

XX  THE  CAPTAIN  COMMANDS  ....;..  146- 

XXI  SPECTERS  OF  THE  PAST 153 

XXII  DR.  FILHIOL  STANDS  BY    .                           .  i6t 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIII  SUNSHINE 169 

XXIV  DARKENING  SHADOWS 179 

XXV  TROUBLED  SOULS      .     .     .     .   -.     .     .     .  186 

XXVI    PLANS  FOR  RESCUE 191 

XXVII    GEYSER  ROCK 197 

XXVIII  LAURA  UNDERSTANDS     .     .     .     .     .     «     .  204 

XXIX  THE  GARDEN  OF  GETHSEMANE     ....  214 

XXX  His  WORD  OF  HONOR    ...'....  222 

XXXI    THE  SAFE .     .     .     .     .233 

XXXII    THE  READING  OF  THE  CURSE 238 

XXXIII  ROBBERY „     .     .     .     .     .246 

XXXIV  SELF-SACRIFICE 257 

XXXV    TREACHERY .267 

XXXVI    THE  DOCTOR  SPEAKS 274 

XXXVII  THE  CAPTAIN  SEES  .     .     .   -.     .     .-     .     .283 

XXXVIII  CAPTAIN  BRIGGS  FINDS  THE  WAY     .     .     .  292 

XXXIX  "  ONE  MUST  DIE  ".     .     .     .....     .     .299 

XL    ON  THE  Kittiwink '.     .  305 

XLI    FATE  STRIKES 310 

XLII     IN  EXTREMIS 319 

XLIII     CURARE 329 

XLIV    NEW  DAWN 340 


CURSED 


CURSED 

CHAPTER  I 

AT    BATU    KAWAN 

Slashed  across  the  copper  bowl  of  sunset,  the  jagged 
silhouette  of  tawny-shouldered  mountains,  fringed  with 
areca-palms  in  black  fretwork  against  the  swift-fading 
glow,  divided  the  tropic  sky.  Above,  day  yet  lingered. 
Belowr,  night's  dim  shroud,  here  and  there  spangled 
with  glow-lights  still  or  moving,  had  already  folded 
earth  in  its  obscurity. 

Down  from  that  mountain  crest  the  descending 
slopes  fell  through  grove  and  plantation  to  the  drowned 
paddy-fields  and  to  the  miasmatic  swamps,  brooded  by 
settling  mists  like  thin,  white  breath  of  ghosts  that  in 
this  Malay  land  all  men  gave  faith  to. 

Nearer  still,  it  reached  the  squalid  campong  of  Batui 
Kawan.  Batu  Kawan,  huddled  in  filth,  disorder  and 
disease  between  the  steaming  arsenical  green  of  the 
lowlands  and  the  muddy  idleness  of  the  boat-jammed 
Timbago  River.  Batu  Kawan,  whence  the  New  Bed 
ford  clipper-ship,  Silver  Fleece,  should  have  sailed  two 
hours  ago  on  the  high  tide,  this  i8th  day  of  February, 
1868.  Batu  Kawan,  pestilent,  malodorous,  sinister, 
swarming  with  easy  life,  hemmed  round  with  easier 
death. 

William  Scurlock,  mate,  was  looking  townward, 
leaning  with  crossed  arms  on  rail.  The  umber  smudge 


2  CURSED 

/ 

of  half-light  in  the  sky,  fading  over  the  torn  edge  of 
the  mountains,  revealed  something  of  his  blond  big 
ness,  freckled,  weather-bitten,  with  close-cropped  hair, 
a  scarred  jaw  and  hard  teeth  that  gripped  his  cutty- 
pipe  in  bulldog  fashion. 

Scurlock  seemed  to  be  engaged  with  inward  vision- 
ings,  rather  than  outward.  The  occasional  come- 
and-go  of  some  dim  figure  in  the  waist  of  the  ship,  the 
fan-tan  game  of  four  or  five  Malay  seamen  —  for  the 
Silver  Fleece  carried  a  checkerboard  crew,  white, 
yellow  and  brown  —  as  they  squatted  on  their  hunkers 
under  the  vague  blur  of  a  lantern  just  forward  of  the 
mainmast,  and  the  hiccoughing  stridor  of  an  accordion 
in  the  fo'c's'le,  roused  in  him  no  reaction. 

Nor,  as  he  lolled  there  under  the  awning,  did  he  ap 
pear  to  take  heed  of  the  mud-clogged  river  with  its 
jumble  of  sampans  and  house-boats,  or  of  the  thatched 
huts  and  tiled  godowns  past  which  the  colorful  swarm 
of  Oriental  life  was  idling  along  the  bund.  This  stew 
ing  caldron  of  heat,  haze,  odors,  dusk  where  fruit-bats 
staggered  against  the  appearing  stars  said  nothing 
whatever  to  the  mate.  All  he  could  see  in  it  was  in 
efficiency,  delay  and  loss. 

Not  all  its  wizardry  of  gleaming  lights  in  hut  and 
shop,  its  firefly  paper  lanterns,  its  murmuring  strange 
ness  could  weigh  against  the  vexing  fact  that  his  ship 
had  missed  the  tide,  and  that  —  though  her  full  cargo 
of  tea,  rattan,  tapioca,  cacao  and  opium  was  under 
hatches  —  she  still  lay  made  fast  to  the  bamboo  moor- 
ing-piles.  What  could  offset  the  annoyance  that  Cap 
tain  Alpheus  Briggs,  ashore  on  business  of  his  own, 
was  still  delaying  the  vital  business  of  working  down 
stream  on  the  ebb? 

"  Devil  of  a  cap'n !  "  grumbled  Scurlock.  He  spat 
moodily  into  the  dark  waters,  and  sucked  at  his  pipe. 
"  Ain't  it  enough  for  him  to  have  put  in  a  hundred 


AT  BATU  KAWAN  3 

boxes  of  raw  opium,  which  is  liable  to  land  us  all  in 
hell,  without  stealin'  a  nigger  wench  an'  now  drinkin* 
samshu,  ashore  ?  Trouble  comin' —  mutiny  an'  mur 
der  an'  damnation  with  trimmin's,  or  I'm  no  Gloucester 
man!" 

Savagely  he  growled  in  his  deep  throat.  Scurlock 
disapproved  of  Batu  Kawan  and  of  all  its  works,  espe 
cially  of  its  women  and  its  raw  rice-whisky.  The  East 
grated  on  his  taut  nerves.  Vague  singing  in  huts  and 
the  twangle  of  musically  discordant  strings  set  his 
teeth  on  edge.  He  hated  the  smells  of  the  place,  all 
seemingly  compounded  of  curry  and  spices  and  mud 
and  smoke  of  wood  fires,  through  which  the  perfumes 
of  strange  fruits  and  heavy  flowers  drifted  insistently. 

The  voices  of  mothers  calling  their  naked  little  ones 
within  their  doors,  lest  Mambang  Kuning,  the  yellow 
devil  who  dwells  in  the  dusk,  should  snatch  them, 
jarred  upon  his  evil  temper.  So,  too,  the  monot 
onous  tunk-tunk-tunk  of  metal-workers'  hammers  in 
some  unseen  place;  the  snuffling  grunt  of  carabaos 
wallowing  in  the  mud-swale  beyond  the  guava  clump, 
up-stream ;  the  nasal  chatter  of  gharry-drivers  and 
Kling  boatmen;  the  whining  sing-song  of  Malay  ped- 
lers  with  shouldered  poles,  whence  swung  baskets 
of  sugar-cane  and  mangosteens.  Scurlock  abomi 
nated  all  that  shuffling,  chattering  tangle  of  dark, 
half-clad  life.  The  gorge  of  his  trim,  efficient,  New 
England  soul  rose  up  against  it,  in  hot  scorn. 

"  Damn  the  Straits !  "  he  grumbled,  passing  his  hand 
over  his  forehead,  sweaty  in  the  breathless  heat. 
"  An'  damn  Briggs,  too !  It's  my  last  voyage  East, 
by  joycus!  " 

Which  was,  indeed,  the  living  truth,  though  by  no 
means  as  Scurlock  meant  or  understood  it. 

A  plaintive  hail  from  the  rough  brick  coping  of 
the  bund  drew  his  atrabilious  attention.  The  mate 


4  CURSED 

saw  that  a  brown,  beardless  fellow  was  making  ges 
tures  at  him.  A  lantern  on  the  quarterdeck  flung 
unsteady  rays  upon  the  Malay's  nakedness,  complete 
save  for  the  breech-clout  through  which  a  kris  was 
thrust.  In  his  left  hand  he  gripped  a  loose-woven 
coir  bag,  heavily  full.  His  left  held  out,  on  open 
palm,  three  or  four  shining  globules.  Scurlock 
viewed  with  resentment  the  lean,  grinning  face,  lips 
reddened  and  teeth  jet-black  by  reason  of  long  years 
of  chewing  lime  and  betel. 

"  Turtle  egg,  sar,  sellum  piecee  cheap,"  crooned  the 
Malay.  "  Buyum  turtle  egg,  sar  ?  " 

Scurlock's  answer  was  to  bend,  reach  for  a  piece 
of  holystone  in  a  bucket  by  the  rail,  and  catapult  it 
at  the  vagabond  who  had  made  so  bold  as  to  interrupt 
his  musings.  The  Malay  swung  aside;  the  holystone 
crunched  into  the  sack  of  eggs  and  slid  to  earth. 

The  screaming  curse  of  the  barbarian  hardly  crossed 
the  rail  ahead  of  the  flung  kris.  The  wavy,  pois 
oned  blade  flickered,  spinning.  Scurlock  stooped 
away;  the  fraction  of  an  eyewink  later  would  have 
done  his  life's  business  very  neatly.  Into  the  mizzen- 
mast  drove  the  kris,  and  quivered  there. 

Scurlock  turned,  strode  to  it  and  plucked  it  out, 
swearing  in  his  rage.  The  Malays  at  fan-tan  by  the 
gleam  of  the  slush-light  under  the  awning  grew 
silent.  Their  fantastic  little  cards,  of  gaudy  hue, 
dropped  unheeded;  for  they  had  heard  the  name  of 
Ratna  Mutnu  Manikam,  god  who  brings  death. 
Wherefore  they  shuddered,  and  turned  scared  faces 
aft;  and  some  touched  heart  and  forehead,  warding 
off  the  curse. 

Back  to  the  rail,  kris  in  hand,  ran  Scurlock. 

"  Juldi,  you !  "  he  shouted,  with  an  oath  unprintable. 
"  Top  your  broom,  you  black  swine  —  skip,  before  I 
come  ashore  an'  split  you !  Juldi  jao' " 


AT  BATU  KAWAN  5 

The  Malay  hesitated.  Scurlock,  flinging  "  Sur!" 
at  him,  which  in  the  lingua  franca  denominates  a 
swine,  started  for  the  gangway.  Silently  the  Malay 
faded  into  the  little  fringe  of  brown  and  yellow  folk 
that  had  already  gathered ;  and  so  he  vanished.  Scur 
lock  was  already  setting  foot  upon  the  gangway  that 
led  slantwise  down  to  the  bund,  when  through  the 
quickly  coagulating1  street-crowd  an  eddy,  develop 
ing,  made  visible  by  the  vague  light  a  large  head  cov 
ered  with  a  topi  hat  wrapped  in  a  pugree.  Powerful 
shoulders  and  huge  elbows,  by  no  means  chary  of 
smashing  right  and  left  against  the  naked  ribs,  cleared 
a  passage,  amid  grunts  and  gasps  of  pain ;  and  once 
or  twice  the  big  man's  fists  swung  effectively,  by  way 
of  make-weight. 

Then  to  William  Scurlock's  sight  appeared  a  tall, 
heavy-set  figure,  rather  dandified,  in  raw  yellow  bam 
boo  silk  and  with  very  neatly  polished  boots  that 
seemed  to  scorn  the  mud  of  Batu  Kawan.  A  first 
glance  recorded  black  brows  of  great  luxuriance,  a 
jungle  of  black  beard  contrasting  sharply  with  a  face 
reddened  by  wind,  weather  and  hard  liquor,  and,  in 
the  V  of  a  half-opened  shirt,  a  corded  neck  and  hairy 
chest  molded  on  lines  of  the  young  Hercules.  This 
man  would  be  going  on  for  twenty-eight  or  so.  Fists, 
eyes  and  jaw  all  lusted  battle. 

Alpheus  Briggs,  captain  and  part  owner  of  the  Sil 
ver  Fleece,  had  returned. 


CHAPTER  II 

ALPHEUS   BRIGGS,    BUCKO 

For  a  moment,  Briggs  and  Scurlock  confronted 
each  other,  separated  by  the  length  of  the  gangway. 
Between  them  stretched  silence;  though  on  the  bund 
a  cackle  and  chatter  of  natives  offended  the  night. 
Then  Captain  Briggs  got  sight  of  the  kris.  That  suf 
ficed,  just  as  anything  would  have  sufficed.  He  put 
his  two  huge,  hairy  fists  on  his  hips ;  his  neck  swelled 
with  rage  born  of  samshu  and  a  temper  by  nature  the 
devil's  own;  he  bellowed  in  a  formidable  roar: 

"  Drop  that  knife,  Mr.  Scurlock!  What's  the  mat 
ter  with  you,  sir?  " 

A  wise  mate  would  have  obeyed,  with  never  one 
word  of  answer.  But  Mr.  Scurlock  was  very  angry, 
and  what  very  angry  man  was  ever  wise?  He  stam 
mered,  in  a  burst  of  rage: 

"I  —  a  Malay  son  of  a  pup  —  he  hove  it  at  me,  an' 
I—" 

"Hove  it  at  you,  did  he,  sir?" 

"  Yes,  an'—"  ' 

Tigerish  with  drunken  ferocity,  Briggs  sprang  up 
the  plank.  A  single,  right-hand  drive  to  the  jaw 
felled  Scurlock.  The  kris  jangled  away  and  came 
to  rest  as  Scurlock  sprawled  along  the  planking. 

"  Sir,  Mr.  Scurlock !  "  fulminated  Briggs  —  though 
not  even  in  this  blind  passion  did  he  forget  sea-eti 
quette,  the  true-bred  Yankee  captain's  "  touch  of  the 
aft"  in  dealing  with  an  officer.  No  verbal  abuse; 
just  the  swinging  fists  now  ready  to  knock  Scurlock 

6 


ALPHEUS  BRIGGS,  BUCKO  7 

flat  again,  should  he  attempt  to  rise.  "  Say  sir  to  me, 
Mr.  Scurlock,  or  I'll  teach  you  how !  " 

"  Sir,"  mumbled  the  mate,  half  dazed.  He  strug 
gled  to  a  sitting  posture,  blinking  up  with  eyes  of 
hate  at  the  taut-muscled  young  giant  who  towered 
over  him,  eager  for  another  blow. 

"  All  right,  Mr.  Scurlock,  and  don't  forget  I  got 
a  handle  to  my  name,  next  time  you  speak  to  me.  If 
any  man,  fore  or  aft,  wants  any  o'  my  fist,  let  him 
leave  off  sir,  to  me !  " 

He  kicked  Scurlock  heavily  in  the  ribs,  so  that  the 
breath  went  grunting  from  him;  then  reached  down, 
a  gorilla-paw,  dragged  him  up  by  the  collar  and 
flung  him  staggering  into  the  arms  of  "  Chips,"  the 
clipper's  carpenter  —  Gascar,  his  name  was  —  who  had 
just  come  up  the  quarterdeck  companion.  Other 
faces  appeared:  Bevans,  the  steward,  and  Prass,  the 
bo'sun.  Furiously  Briggs  confronted  them  all. 

"  Understand  me?  "  he  shouted,  swaying  a  little  as 
he  stood  there  with  eager  fists.  "  Where's  Mr.  Wans- 
ley?" 

"  Asleep,  sir,"  answered  Bevans.  Wansley,  second- 
mate,  was  indeed  dead  to  the  world  in  his  berth. 
Most  of  the  work  of  stowing  cargo  had  fallen  on  him, 
for  in  the  old  clippers  a  second-mate's  life  hardly  out 
ranked  a  dog's. 

"What  right  has  Mr.  Wansley  to  be  sleeping?" 
vociferated  the  captain,  lashing  himself  into  hotter 
rage.  "  By  God,  you're  all  a  lot  of  lazy,  loafing,  im 
pudent  swine !  " 

One  smash  of  the  fist  and  Bevans  went  staggering 
toward  the  forward  companion  ladder,  near  the  foot 
of  which  a  little  knot  of  seamen,  white,  brown  and 
yellow,  had  gathered  in  cheerful  expectation  of  seeing 
murder  done. 

Briggs  balanced  himself,   a  strange  figure  in  his 


8  CURSED 

dandified  silk  and  polished  boots,  with  his  topi  hat 
awry,  head  thrust  forward,  brows  scowling,  massive 
neck  swollen  with  rage  and  drink.  Under  the  smudgy 
gleam  of  the  lantern  on  the  mizzen,  his  crimson  face, 
muffled  in  jetty  beard,  and  the  evil-glowering  eyes  of 
him  made  a  picture  of  wrath. 

Briggs  stooped,  snatched  up  the  kris  that  lay  close 
by  his  feet,  and  with  a  hard-muscled  arm  whistled 
its  keen  edge  through  air. 

"  I'll  keep  order  on  my  ship,"  he  blared,  passion 
ately,  "  and  if  I  can't  do  it  with  my  fists,  by  God, 
I'll  do  it  with  this!  The  first  man  that  loosens  his 
tongue,  I'll  split  him  like  a  herring!  " 

"Captain  Briggs,  just  a  moment,  sir!"  exclaimed 
a  voice  at  his  left.  A  short,  well-knit  figure  in  blue, 
advancing  out  of  the  shadows,  'round  the  aft  com 
panion,  laid  a  hand  on  the  drunken  brute's  arm. 

"You  keep  out  of  this,  doctor!"  cried  Briggs. 
"  They're  a  mutinous,  black  lot  o'  dogs  that  need 
lickin',  and  I'm  the  man  to  give  it  to  'em !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  sir,  of  course,"  Dr.  Filhiol  soothed  the 
beast.  "  But  as  the  ship's  physician,  let  me  advise  you 
to  go  to  your  cabin,  sir.  The  heat  and  humidity  are 
extremely  bad.  There's  danger  of  apoplexy,  sir,  if 
you  let  these  fellows  excite  you.  You  aren't  going 
to  give  them  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  you  drop  dead, 
are  you,  captain  ?  " 

Thrown  off  his  course  by  this  new  idea,  Briggs 
peered,  blinked,  pushed  back  his  topi  and  scratched 
his  thick,  close-curling  poll.  Then  all  at  once  he  nod 
ded,  emphatically. 

"  Right  you  are,  doctor!  "  he  cried,  his  mood  swiftly 
changing.  "  I'll  go.  They  shan't  murder  me  —  not 
yet,  much  as  they'd  like  to!" 

"  Well  spoken,  sir.  You're  a  man  of  sense,  sir  — < 
rare  sense.  And  on  a  night  like  this  — " 


ALPHEUS  BRIGGS,  BUCKO  9 

"  The  devil's  own  night !  "  spat  Briggs.  "  God, 
the  breath  sticks  in  my  throat !  "  With  thick,  violent 
fingers  he  ripped  at  his  shirt,  baring  his  breast. 

"  Captain  Briggs!  "  exclaimed  Scurlock,  now  on  his 
feet  again.  "  Listen  to  a  word,  sir,  please." 

"  What  the  damnation  now,  sir  ?  " 

"  We've  lost  the  tide,  sir.  The  comprador  sent 
word  aboard  at  four  bells,  he  couldn't  hold  his  sam 
pan  men  much  longer.  We  should  be  standin'  down 
stream  now,  sir."  Scurlock  spoke  with  white,  shak 
ing  lips,  rubbing  his  smitten  jaw.  Hate,  scorn,  rage 
grappled  in  his  soul  with  his  invincible  New  England 
sense  of  duty,  of  efficiency,  of  getting  the  ship's  work 
done.  "  If  they're  goin'  to  tow  us  down  to-night, 
by  joycus,  sir,  we've  got  to  get  under  way,  and  be 
quick  about  it!  " 

Briggs  dandled  the  kris.  Its  wavy  blade,  grooved 
to  hold  the  dried  curare-poison  that  need  do  no  more 
than  scratch  to  kill,  flung  out  vagrant  high-lights  in 
the  gloom. 

"  For  two  cents  I'd  gut  you,  Mr.  Scurlock,"  he 
retorted.  "  I'm  master  of  this  ship,  and  she'll  sail 
when  I'm  ready,  sir,  not  before !  " 

"  Captain,  they're  only  trying  to  badger-draw  you," 
whispered  Filhiol  in  the  bucko's  ear.  "  A  man  of 
your  intelligence  will  beat  them  at  their  own  game." 
Right  well  the  doctor  knew  the  futility  of  trying  to  get 
anything  forward  till  the  captain's  rage  and  liquor 
should  have  died.  "  Let  these  dogs  bark,  sir,  if  they 
will.  You  and  I  are  men  of  education.  I  propose 
a  quiet  drink  or  two,  sir,  and  then  a  bit  of  sleep  — " 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir?  "  flared 
Briggs,  turning  on  him.  "  You  mean  I'm  not  able  to 
take  my  ship  out  of  this  devil's  ditch,  to-night?  " 

"  Farthest  from  my  thought,  captain,"  laughed  the 
doctor.  "  Of  course  you  can,  sir,  if  you  want  to. 


io  CURSED 

But  this  mutinous  scum  is  trying  to  force  your  hand. 
sYou're  not  the  man  to  let  them." 

"  I  should  say  not! "  swaggered  the  captain,  with 
a  blasphemy,  while  low-voiced  murmurs  ran  among  the 
men, —  dim,  half  glimpsed  figures  by  the  mizzen,  or  in 
the  waist.  "  Not  much !  Come,  doctor !  " 

He  lurched  aft,  still  swinging  the  kris.  Ardently 
Filhiol  prayed  he  might  gash  himself  therewith,  but 
the  devil  guards  his  own.  With  savage  grimace  at 
Scurlock,  the  physician  whispered :  "  Name  o'  God, 
man,  let  him  be ! "  Then,  at  a  discreet  distance,  he 
followed  Briggs. 

Scurlock  nodded,  with  murder  in  his  eyes.  Gascar 
and  Bevans  murmured  words  that  must  remain  un 
written.  Under  the  awning  at  the  foot  of  the  for 
ward  companion,  white  men  from  the  fo'c'sle  and 
Malays  from  the  deck-house  buzzed  in  divers  tongues. 
Briggs,  the  while,  was  about  to  enter  the  after  com 
panion  when  to  his  irate  ear  the  sound  of  a  droning 
chant,  somewhere  ashore,  came  mingled  with  the  dull 
thudding  of  a  drum,  monotonous,  irritating  as  fever 
pulses  in  the  brain  of  a  sick  man. 

Briggs  swerved  to  the  starboard  quarter  rail  and 
smote  it  mightily  with  his  fist,  as  with  bloodshot  eyes 
he  peered  down  at  the  smoky,  lantern-glowing  con 
fusion  of  the  bund. 

"  The  damned  Malays !  "  he  shouted.  "  They've 
started  another  of  their  infernal  sing-songs!  If  I 
could  lay  hands  on  that  son  of  a  whelp  — " 

He  shook  the  kris  madly  at  a  little  group  about  a 
blazing  flare ;  in  the  midst  squatted  an  itinerant  ballad- 
singer.  Tapping  both  heads  of  a  small,  barrel-like 
drum,  the  singer  whined  on  and  on,  with  intonations 
wholly  maddening  to  the  captain. 

For  a  moment  Briggs  glared  down  at  this  scene, 


ALPHEUS  BRIGGS,  BUCKO  n 

•which  to  his  fuddled  senses  seemed  a  challenge  direct, 
especially  devil-sent  to  harry  him. 

"  Look  at  that  now,  doctor,  will  you  ?  "  Briggs 
flung  out  his  powerful  left  hand  toward  the  singer. 
"  Want  to  bet  I  can't  throw  this  knife  through  the 
black  dog?" 

He  balanced  the  kris,  ready  for  action,  and  with 
wicked  eyes  gauged  the  throw.  Filhiol  raised  a  dis 
paraging  hand. 

"  Don't  waste  a  splendid  curio  on  the  dog,  captain," 
smiled  he,  masking  fear  with  indifference.  Should 
Briggs  so  much  as  nick  one  of  the  Malays  with  that 
envenomed  blade,  Filhiol  knew  to  a  certainty  that 
with  fire  and  sword  Batu  Kawan  would  take  complete 
vengeance.  He  knew  that  before  morning  no  white 
man  would  draw  life's  breath  aboard  the  Silver  Fleece. 
"  You've  got  a  wonderful  curio  there,  sir.  Don't  lose 
it,  for  a  mere  nothing." 

"  Curio  ?  What  the  devil  do  /  care  for  Malay 
junk?"  retorted  Briggs,  thick-tongued  and  bestial. 
"  The  only  place  I'd  like  to  see  this  toothpick  would  be 
stickin'  out  of  that  swine's  ribs!  " 

"Ah,  but  you  don't  realize  the  value  of  the  knife, 
sir,"  wheedled  Filhiol.  "  It's  an  extraordinarily  fine 
piece  of  steel,  captain,  and  the  carving  of  the  lotus 
bud  on  the  handle  is  a  little  masterpiece.  I'd  like  it 
for  my  collection."  He  paused,  struck  by  inspiration. 
"  I'll  play  you  for  the  knife,  sir.  Let's  have  that  drink 
we  were  speaking  of,  and  then  a  few  hands  of  poker. 
I'll  play  you  anything  I've  got  —  my  watch,  my  instru 
ment  case,  my  wages  for  the  voyage,  whatever  you  like 
—  against  that  kris.  Is  that  a  go  ?  " 

"Sheer  off!"  mocked  Briggs,  raising  the  blade. 
The  doctor's  eye  judged  distance.  He  would  grapple, 
if  it  came  to  that.  But  still  he  held  to  craft: 


12  CURSED 

"  This  is  the  first  time,  captain,  I  ever  knew  you  to 
be  afraid  of  a  good  gamble." 

"  Afraid?  Me,  afraid?  "  shouted  the  drunken  man. 
"I'll  make  you  eat  those  words,  sir!  The  knife 
against  your  pay !  " 

"  Done !  "  said  the  doctor,  stretching  out  his  hand. 
Briggs  took  it  in  a  grip  that  gritted  the  bones  of 
Filhiol,  then  for  a  moment  stood  blinking,  dazed, 
hiccoughing  once  or  twice.  His  purpose,  vacillant, 
once  more  was  drawn  to  the  singer.  He  laughed,  with 
a  maudlin  catch  of  the  breath. 

"Does  that  gibberish  mean  anything,  doctor?" 
asked  he. 

"  Never  mind,  sir,"  answered  Filhiol.  "  We've  got 
a  game  to  play,  and  —  " 

"  Not  just  yet,  sir !  That  damned  native  may  be 
laying  a  curse  on  me,  for  all  I  know.  Mr.  Scurlock !  " 
he  suddenly  shouted  forward. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  the  mate's  voice,  through 
the  gloom. 

"  Send  me  a  Malay  —  one  that  can  talk  United 
States !  " 

"  Yes,  sir !  "  And  Scurlock  was  heard  in  converse 
with  the  brown  men  in  the  waist.  Over  the  rail  the 
captain  leaned,  staring  at  the  singer  and  the  crowd,  the 
smoky  torches,  the  confused  crawling  of  life  in  Batu 
Kawan;  and  as  he  stared,  he  muttered  to  himself,  and 
twisted  at  his  beard  with  his  left  hand  —  his  right 
still  gripped  the  kris. 

"  You  damned,  outrageous  blackguard!  "  the  doctor 
thought.  "  If  I  ever  get  you  into  your  cabin,  God 
curse  me  if  I  don't  throw  enough  opium  into  you  to 
keep  you  quiet  till  we're  a  hundred  miles  at  sea !  " 

Came  the  barefoot  slatting  of  a  Malay,  pad-pad- 
padding  aft,  and  the  sound  of  a  soft-voiced:  "  Captain 
Briggs,  sar?  " 


ALPHEUS  BRIGGS,  BUCKO  13 

"  You  the  man  that  Mr.  Scurlock  sent?  "  demanded 
Briggs. 

11  Yas,  sar." 

"  All  right.  Listen  to  that  fellow  down  there  — 
the  one  that's  singing!"  Briggs  laid  a  hand  on  the 
Malay,  jerked  him  to  the  rail  and  pointed  a  thick, 
angry  finger.  "  Tell  me  what  he's  say  in' !  Under 
stand?" 

"  Yas,  sar." 

The  Malay  put  both  lean,  brown  hands  on  the  rail, 
squinted  his  gray  eyes,  impassive  as  a  Buddha's,  and 
gave  attentive  ear.  To  him  arose  the  droning  words 
of  the  long-drawn,  musical  cadences : 

Arang  itou  dibasouh  dengan  ayer 
Mawar  sakalipoun  tiada  akan  poutih. 

Satahoun  houdjan  di  langit  ayer  latout  masakan  tawarf 
Sebab  tiada  tahon  menari  dikatakan  tembad. 

Tabour  bidjian  diatas  tasik  tiada  akan  toumbounh  — 

On,  on  wailed  the  chant.  At  last  the  Malay  shook 
his  head,  shrugged  thin  shoulders  under  his  cotton 
shirt,  and  cast  an  uneasy  glance  at  Briggs,  looming 
black-bearded  and  angry  at  his  side. 

"  Well,  what's  it  all  about?  "  demanded  the  captain, 
thudding  a  fist  on  the  rail.  "  Sayin'  anythin'  about 
me,  or  the  Silver  Fleece f  If  he  is  —  " 

"  No,  sar.     Nothin'  so,  sar." 

"Well,  what?" 

"  He  sing  about  wicked  things.  About  sin.  He 
say—" 

"  What  does  he  say,  you  cinder  from  the  Pit?  " 

"  He  say,  you  take  coal,  wash  him  long  time,  in 
water  of  roses,  coal  never  get  white.  Sin  always  stay. 
He  say,  rain  fall  long  time,  one  year,  ocean  never  get 
fresh  water.  Always  salty  water.  Sin  always  stay. 
He  say  one  small  piece  indigo  fall  in  one  jar  of  goat- 


i4  CURSED 

milk,  spoil  all  milk,  make  all  milk  blue.  One  sin  last 
all  life,  always."  The  Malay  paused,  trying  to 
muster  his  paucity  of  English.  Briggs  shook  him 
roughly,  bidding  him  go  on,  or  suffer  harm. 

"  He  say  if  sky  will  go  to  fall  down,  no  man  can 
hold  him  up.  Sin  always  fall  down.  He  say,  good 
seed  on  land,  him  grow.  Good  seed  on  ocean,  him 
never  grow.  He  say  —  " 

"  That'll  do!     Stow  your  jaw,  now!  " 

"Yas,  sar." 

"  Get  out  —  go  forrard !  " 

The  Malay  salaamed,  departed.  Briggs  hailed  him 
again. 

"Hey,  you!" 

"  Yes,  sar  ?  "  answered  the  brown  fellow,  wheeling. 

"What's  your  name  —  if  pigs  have  names?" 

"  Mahmud  Baba,  sar,"  the  Malay  still  replied  with 
outward  calm.  Yet  to  call  a  follower  of  the  Prophet 
"  pig  "  could  not  by  any  invention  of  the  mind  have 
been  surpassed  in  the  vocabulary  of  death-inviting 
insult. 

"  My  Mud  Baby,  eh  ?  Good  name  —  that's  a  slick 
one!"  And  Briggs  roared  into  a  laugh  of  drunken 
discord.  He  saw  not  that  the  Malay  face  was  twitch 
ing;  he  saw  not  the  stained  teeth  in  grimaces  of  sud 
den  hate.  Gloom  veiled  this.  "  I'll  remember  that," 
he  went  on.  "  My  Mud  Baby.  Well  now,  Mud 
Baby,  back  to  your  sty !  " 

"  Captain  Briggs,"  the  doctor  put  in,  fair  desperate 
to  get  this  brute  below-decks  ere  blood  should  flow. 
"  Captain,  if  you  were  as  anxious  as  I  am  for  a  good 
stiff  game  of  poker  and  a  stiffer  drink,  you  wouldn't 
be  wasting  your  breath  on  Malay  rubbish.  Shall  we 
mix  a  toddy  for  the  first  one  ?  " 

"  Good  idea,  sir !  "  Briggs  answered,  his  eyes  bright- 


ALPHEUS  BRIGGS,  BUCKO  15 

ening.     He  clapped  Filhiol  on  the  shoulder,  so  that  the 
man  reeled  toward  the  after-companion. 

Down  the  stairway  they  went,  the  doctor  cursing 
under  his  breath,  Briggs  clumping  heavily,  singing  a 
snatch  of  low  ribaldry  from  a  Bombay  gambling-hell. 
They  entered  the  cabin.  To  them,  as  the  door  closed, 
still  droned  the  voice  of  the  minstrel  on  the  bund: 

Sebab  tiada  tahon  menari  dikatakan  tembad, 
Tabour  bidjian  diatas  tasik  tiada  akan  toumbounh. 

One  drop  of  indigo  spoils  the  whole  jar  of  milk; 
Seed  sown  upon  the  ocean  never  grows. 


CHAPTER  III 

SCURLOCK  GOES  ASHORE 

Sweltering  though  the  cabin  was,  it  seemed  to  Dr. 
Filhiol  a  blessed  haven  of  refuge  from  the  probabili 
ties  of  grevious  harm  that  menaced,  without.  With 
a  deep  breath  of  relief  he  saw  Briggs  lay  the  kris  on 
the  cabin  table.  Himself,  he  sat  down  at  that  table, 
and  while  Briggs  stood  there  half -grinning  with  white 
teeth  through  black  beard,  took  up  the  knife. 

He  studied  it,  noting  its  keen,  double  edge,  its 
polished  steel,  the  deft  carving  of  the  lotus-bud  handle. 
Then,  as  he  laid  it  down,  he  offered : 

"  It's  a  genuine  antique.  I'll  go  you  a  month's 
•wages  against  it." 

"You'll  do  nothin'  of  the  kind,  sir!"  ejaculated 
Briggs,  and  took  it  up  agan.  "  The  voyage,  you  said, 
and  it's  that  or  nothing!  " 

The  doctor  bit  his  close-razored  lip.  Then  he  nod 
ded.  Filhiol  was  shrewd,  and  sober;  Briggs,  rash 
and  drunk.  Yes,  for  the  sake  of  getting  that  cursed 
knife  out  of  the  captain's  hands,  Filhiol  would  accept. 

"  Put  it  out  of  harm's  way,  sir,  and  let's  deal  the 
cards,"  said  he.  "  It's  poisoned.  We  don't  want  it 
where  we  might  get  scratched,  by  accident." 

"Poisoned,  sir?"  demanded  Briggs,  running  a 
horny  thumb  along  the  point.  His  brows  wrinkled, 
inquisitively.  No  fear  showed  in  that  splendidly  male, 
lawless,  unconquered  face. 

"For  God's  sake,  captain,  put  that  devilish  thing 
away !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  feigning  to  shudder ; 

though  all  the  while  a  secret  hope  was  whispering: 

16 


SCURLOCK  GOES  ASHORE  17 

"  Heaven  send  that  he  may  cut  himself!  "  Aloud  he 
said :  "  I'll  play  no  game,  sir,  with  that  kris  in  sight. 
Put  it  in  your  locker,  captain,  and  set  out  the  drink. 
My  throat's  afire!  " 

"Poisoned,  eh?"  grunted  the  captain  again,  still 
with  drunken  obstinacy  testing  the  edge.  "  All 
damned  nonsense,  sir.  After  that's  been  run  into  the 
Oregon  pine  of  my  mizzen,  a  couple  of  inches  — " 

"  There's  still  enough  left  to  put  you  in  a  shotted 
hammock,  sir,  if  you  cut  yourself,"  the  doctor  insisted. 
"  But  it's  your  own  affair.  If  you  choose  to  have 
Mr.  Scurlock  take  the  Silver  Fleece  back  to  Long 
Wharf,  Boston,  while  you  rot  in  Motomolo 
Straits  — " 

With  a  blasphemy,  Briggs  strode  to  his  locker.  The 
doctor  smiled  cannily  as  Briggs  flung  open  the  locker, 
tossed  in  the  kris  and,  taking  a  square-shouldered 
bottle,  returned  to  the  table.  This  bottle  the  captain 
thumped  down  on  the  table,  under  the  lamp-gleam. 

"  Best  Old  Jamaica,"  boasted  he.  "  Best  is  none 
too  good,  when  I  win  my  doctor's  entire  pay.  For 
it's  as  good  as  mine  already,  and  you  can  lay  to  that !  " 

Speaking,  he  worried  out  the  cork.  He  sniffed  at 
the  bottle,  blinked,  peered  wonderingly  at  the  label, 
and  sniffed  again. 

"Hell's  bells!"  roared  Briggs,  flaring  into  sudden 
passion. 

"What's  the  matter,  sir?" 

"  Old  Jamaica!  "  vociferated  the  captain.  "  It  was 
Old  Jamaica,  but  now  smell  o'  that,  will  you  ?  " 

Filhiol  sniffed,  tentatively.  In  a  second  he  knew 
some  one  had  been  tampering  with  the  liquor,  substi 
tuting  low-grade  spirits  for  Brigg's  choicest  treasure; 
but  he  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders,  with : 

"  It  seems  like  very  good  rum,  sir.  Come,  let's 
mix  cur  grog  and  get  the  cards." 


1 8  CURSED 

"  Good  rum !  "  gibed  Briggs.  "  Some  thieving  son 
of  Satan  has  been  at  my  Jamaica,  and  has  been  fillin' 
the  square-face  up  with  hog-slop,  or  I  never  sailed 
blue  water!  Look  at  the  stuff  now,  will  you?" 

He  spilled  out  half  a  glass  of  the  liquor,  tasted  it, 
spat  it  upon  the  floor.  Then  he  dashed  the  glass 
violently  to  the  boards,  crashing  it  to  flying  shards 
and  spattering  the  rum  all  about.  In  a  bull-like  roar 
he  shouted: 

''Boy!     You,  there,  boy!" 

A  moment,  and  one  of  the  doors  leading  off  the 
main  cabin  opened,  on  the  port  side.  A  pale,  slim 
boy  appeared  and  advanced  into  the  cabin,  blinking 
up  with  fear  at  the  black-bearded  vision  of  wrath. 

"  Yes,  sir?  What  is  it,  sir?  "  asked  he,  in  a  scared 
voice. 

Briggs  dealt  him  a  cuff  that  sent  him  reeling.  The 
captain's  huge  hand,  swinging  back,  overset  the  bottle, 
that  gurgled  out  its  life-blood. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  shouted  Briggs.  "  You  got  the  im 
pudence  to  ask  me  what  it  is?  I'll  learn  you  to  step 
livelier  when  I  call,  you  whelp !  Come  here !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  quavered  the  boy.  Shaking,  he  sidled 
nearer.  "  What  —  what  do  you  want,  sir  ?  " 

"  What  do  I  want? "  the  captain  howled ;  while 
Filhiol,  suddenly  pale  with  a  rage  that  shook  his  heart, 
pressed  lips  hard  together,  lest  some  word  escape 
them.  "  You  swab!  Catechisin'  me,  are  you?  '  Ask- 
in'  me  what  I  want,  eh?  If  I  had  a  rope's-end  here 
I'd  show  you!  Get  out,  now.  Go,  tell  Mr.  Scurlock 
I  wrant  him.  Jump !  " 

The  lad  ducked  another  blow,  ran  to  the  cabin-door 
and  sprang  for  the  stairs.  Ill-fortune  ran  at  his  side. 
He  missed  footing,  sprawled  headlong  up  the  com 
panion  stairway. 

With  a  shout  of  exultation,  Briggs  caught  up  from 


SCURLOCK  GOES  ASHORE  19 

a  corner  a  long,  smooth  stick,  with  a  polished  knob 
carved  from  a  root  —  one  of  the  clubs  known  in  the 
Straits  as  "  Penang-lawyers,"  by  reason  of  their  effi 
cacy  in  settling  disputes.  He  grabbed  the  writhing 
boy,  now  frantically  trying  to  scrabble  up  the  stairs, 
in  a  clutch  that  almost  crunched  the  frail  shoulder 
bones.  Up  the  companion  he  dragged  him  —  the  boy 
screaming  with  terror  of  death  —  and  hurled  him  out 
on  deck,  fair  against  the  wheel. 

The  boy  collapsed  in  a  limp,  groaning  heap.  Briggs 
laughed  wildly,  and,  brandishing  the  Penang-lawyer, 
advanced  out  upon  the  dim-lit  planking. 

An  arm  thrust  him  back. 

"You  ain't  goin'  to  hit  that  there  boy!"  shouted 
a  voice  —  William  Scurlock's.  "  Not  while  I'm  alive, 
you  ain't!  " 

A  wrench  and  the  club  flew  over  the  rail.  It 
splashed  in  the  dark,  slow  waters  of  the  Timbago. 

Briggs  gulped.  He  whirled,  both  fists  knotted. 
Then,  swift  as  a  cobra,  he  sprang  and  struck. 

Scurlock  dodged.  The  captain's  fist,  finding  no 
mark,  drove  against  one  of  the  spokes  of  the  wheel 
with  a  crash  that  split  the  hickory.  As  Briggs  had 
never  cursed  before,  now  he  cursed.  For  a  second  or 
two  he  nursed  his  damaged  hand. 

The  brief  respite  sufficed.  Scurlock  snatched  up  the 
boy.  He  started  forward,  just  as  the  doctor  appeared 
at  the  top  of  the  companion. 

"  Captain  Briggs,  sir !  "  cried  Filhiol,  in  a  shaking 
voice.  Still  he  was  hoping  against  hope  to  keep  the 
peace.  "Are  you  hurt,  sir?" 

"  To  hell  with  you !  "  roared  Briggs,  now  forgetting 
sea-etiquette  —  surest  indication  of  the  extremity  of 
his  drunken  passion.  He  lurched  after  the  retreating 
Scurlock.  "  Back,  here,  you  bloody  swine !  Drop 
that  brat,  and  I'll  show  you  who's  boss ! " 


20  CURSED 

Scurlock  laughed  mockingly  and  quickened  his 
stride.  Mad  with  the  rage  that  kills,  Briggs  pursued, 
a  huge,  lunging  figure  of  malevolence  and  hate.  Be 
fore  he  could  lay  grips  on  Scurlock,  the  mate  wheeled. 
He  let  the  fainting  boy  slide  down  on  deck,  whipped 
out  a  clasp-knife,  snicked  open  the  blade.  Holding 
it  low,  to  rip  upward,  he  confronted  Briggs  under  the 
glimmer  of  the  mizzen-lantern. 

Now  this  was  raw  mutiny,  and  a  hanging  matter 
if  Scurlock  drew  one  drop  of  the  captain's  blood.  But 
that  Scurlock  cared  nothing  for  the  noose  was  very 
plain  to  see.  Even  the  crimson  rage  of  Briggs  saw 
death  knocking  at  the  doors  of  his  life.  Barehanded, 
he  could  not  close  for  battle.  He  recoiled,  his  blood 
shot  eyes  shuttling  for  some  handy  weapon. 

"  Damn  you,  if  I  had  that  kris  — "  he  panted. 

"  But  you  ain't,  you  lousy  bucko !  "  mocked  Scur 
lock.  "  An'  you  turn  your  back  on  me,  to  go  for  it, 
if  you  dare!  " 

Briggs  sprang  for  the  rail.  He  snatched  at  a  be- 
laying-pin,  with  wicked  blasphemies.  The  pin  stuck, 
a  moment.  He  wrenched  it  clear,  and  wheeled  —  too 
late. 

Already  Scurlock  had  snatched  up  the  boy  again. 
Already  he  was  at  the  gangway.  Down  it  he  leaped, 
to  the  bund.  With  the  unconscious  boy  still  in  the 
crook  of  his  left  arm,  he  shoved  into  the  scatter  of 
idling  natives.  Then  he  turned,  raised  a  fist  of  quiver 
ing  hatred,  and  flung  his  defiance  toward  the  vague, 
yellow-clad  figure  now  hesitating  at  the  top  of  the 
gangway,  pin  in  hand: 

"  I'm  through  with  you,  you  rum-soaked  hellbender ! 
He's  through,  too,  the  boy  is.  We'll  take  our  chances 
with  the  Malays  an'  the  plague." 

Scurlock's  voice,  rising  out  of  the  softly-lit  tropic 
evening,  died  suddenly. 


SCURLOCK  GOES  ASHORE  21 

"  Come  back,  Mr.  Scurlock,  and  bring  that  boy !  " 
cried  the  doctor,  from  the  rail. 

"  I've  got  nothin'  against  you,  sir,"  answered  Scur 
lock.  "  .but  against  him.  God!  If  I  come  back,  it'll 
only  be  to  cut  his  black  heart  out  an'  throw  it  to  the 
sharks.  We're  done !  " 

A  moment  Briggs  stood  drunkenly  peering,  half 
minded  to  pursue,  to  match  his  belaying-pin  against 
the  mate's  dirk.  Gurgling  in  his  throat  —  for  excess 
of  rage  had  closed  upon  all  speech  —  he  panted,  with 
froth  upon  his  black  beard,  while  dim  figures  along  the 
rail  and  on  shore  waited  great  deeds.  Then  all  at 
once  he  laughed  —  a  horrible,  deep-throated  laugh,  ris 
ing,  swelling  to  mighty  and  bestial  merriment;  the 
laugh  of  a  gorilla,  made  man. 

"  The  Malays  and  the  plague,"  he  thickly  stam 
mered.  " —  He's  said  it  —  let  'em  go !  They're  good 
as  dead  already,  and  hell  take  'em !  " 

He  swung  on  his  heel,  then  strode  back  unsteadily 
to  the  companion.  Down  it  he  lunged.  Still  laugh 
ing,  he  burst  into  the  heat  and  reek  of  the  cabin. 

"  Come  on,  doctor,"  cried  he,  "  our  cards,  our 
cards!" 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  CURSE  OF  NENEK  KABAYAN 

"  He'll  steal  no  more  of  my  Old  Jamaica,"  exulted 
Briggs,  flinging  himself  into  a  chair  by  the  table. 
"  And  that  sniveling  boy  will  give  me  no  more  of 
his  infernal  lip !  Skunks !  "  He  picked  up  the  bottle, 
still  containing  a  little  rum,  and  poured  a  gulp  of  liquor 
down  his  throat.  "  On  my  own  ship !  " 

"Where  are  the  cards,  sir?"  asked  Filhiol.  His 
voice,  quivering,  was  hardly  audible. 

"  Petty  game,"  burst  out  the  captain,  "  no  good. 
Make  it  a  real  one,  and  I'll  go  you !  " 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?" 

"  Stakes  worth  playin'  for !  Man-size  stakes !  You 
got  money  in  Boston,  sir.  Some  fifteen  thousand. 
I'll  play  you  for  that,  plus  your  wages  this  voyage !  " 

"  Against  what,  sir?  " 

"  Against  my  share  of  the  ship's  cargo,  and  my 
share  of  the  Silver  Fleece,  herself.  And  if  I  scuttle 
her,  as  scuttle  her  I  may,  in  case  the  insurance  money 
foots  bigger  than  the  ship's  worth  and  the  cargo,  I 
stake  that  money,  too !  " 

The  doctor  pondered  a  moment,  while  Briggs  pressed 
a  hand  to  his  thick  neck,  redly  swollen  with  heat 
and  rum.  Suddenly  the  captain  broke  out  again : 

"  That's  an  A  i  gamble  for  you,  sir.  \Vhen  I  land 
my  West  Coast  natives  at  San  Felipe,  and  slip  my 
opium  into  Boston,  there  won't  be  a  shipmaster  walk 
up  State  Street  that  will  be  better  fixed  than  I'll  be." 

"  Bring  out  the  cards,  sir,"  answered  the  doctor. 
"  But  the  kris  goes  in  as  part  of  the  wager?  " 

22 


THE  CURSE  OF  NENEK  KABAYAN  23 

"  Yes,  damn  it,  and  I'll  be  generous,"  slavered 
Briggs.  He  jerked  open  the  table  drawer  and  fetched 
out  a  well-thumbed  pack  of  cards,  which  he  flung  on 
the  green  cloth.  "  I'll  put  up  a  stake  that'd  make  any 
man's  mouth  water,  sir,  if  he  is  a  man!  Though  may 
be  you're  not,  bein'  only  a  sawbones!  " 

"What's  that,  sir?" 

"  The  yellow  wench  asleep  in  my  berth  —  Kuala 
Pahang!" 

"  Done !  "  exclaimed  Filhiol,  humoring  the  ruffian  to 
all  possible  limits,  till  liquor  and  heat  should  have 
overcome  him. 

"Deal  the  cards,  sir!"  cried  Briggs.  "I  may  be 
a  bucko,  and  I  may  be  drunk  to-night,  but  I  know  a 
man  when  I  see  one.  I'm  not  too  drunk  to  add  your 
wages  and  your  savin's  to  my  plunder.  Deal  the 
cards!" 

Filhiol  had  just  fallen  to  shuffling  the  pasteboards 
when  a  groan,  from  behind  the  door  of  the  captain's 
private  cabin,  arrested  his  hand.  Frowning,  he 
swung  around.  In  his  tensing  hand  the  cards  bent 
almost  double. 

Briggs  buffeted  him  upon  the  shoulder,  with  huge 
merriment. 

"She's  not  dead  yet,  is  she?"  exulted  he.  "No, 
no,  not  yet.  Even  though  everybody  in  this  devil's 
hole  claims  the  wenches  will  die  first,  before  they'll 
be  a  white  man's  darlin'."  His  speech  had  become 
so  thick  as  to  be  hardly  speech  at  all.  "  All  infernal 
liars,  sawbones!  She's  been  here  already  two  days, 
Topsy  has.  An'  is  she  dead  yet?  Not  very!  No, 
nor  not  goin'  to  die,  neither,  an'  you  can  lay  to  that! 
Nor  get  away  from  me.  Not  while  I'm  alive,  an* 
master  o'  the  Silrcr  Fleece!  " 

The  doctor's  jaw  set  so  hard  that  his  tanned  skin 
whitened  over  the  maxillary  muscles.  Very  vividly1 


24  CURSED 

Filhiol  still  perceived  the  danger  of  general  mutiny,  of 
mass-attack  from  Batu  Kawan,  of  fire  and  sword  im 
pending  before  the  clipper  could  be  got  down-river 
and  away.  Come  all  that  might,  he  must  cling  to 
Briggs,  warily,  humoringly. 

After  all,  what  was  one  native  girl,  more  or  less? 
The  doctor  shuffled  the  cards  again,  and  dealt,  under  the 
raw  light  of  the  swinging-lamp.  A  louder  cry  from 
the  girl  turned  Briggs  around. 

"Damnation!"  he  blared,  starting  up.  "If  the 
wench  gets  to  howling,  she'll  raise  the  town.  I'm 
goin'  to  shut  her  jaw,  and  shut  it  hard !  " 

"  Quite  right,  sir,"  assented  the  doctor,  though  his 
deep  eyes  glowed  with  murder.  "  But,  why  not  get 
under  way,  at  once,  drop  down  the  river  to-night, 
anchor  inside  Ulu  Salama  bar  till  — " 

Briggs  interrupted  him  with  a  boisterous  laugh. 

"  Even  Reuben  Ranzo,  the  tailor,"  he  gibed,  "  could 
give  you  points  on  navigation !  "  He  stared  at  Filhiol 
a  moment,  his  face  darkening;  then  added  harshly: 
"  You  stick  to  your  pills  and  powders,  Mr.  Filhiol,  or 
there'll  be  trouble.  I  won't  have  anybody  tryin'  to 
boss.  Now,  I'm  not  goin'  to  tell  you  twice!  " 

For  three  heartbeats  their  eyes  met.  The  doctor's 
had  become  injected  with  blood.  His  face  had 
assumed  an  animal  expression.  Briggs  snapped  his 
thick  fingers  under  the  physician's  nose,  then  turned 
with  an  oath  and  strode  to  his  cabin  door.  He 
snatched  it  open,  and  stood  there  a  moment  peering 
in,  his  face  deep-lined  in  a  mask  of  vicious  rage. 

"  Captain  Briggs !  " 

The  doctor's  voice  brought  the  ruffian  about  with 
a  sharp  turn. 

"  You  mutinous,  too?"  shouted  he,  swinging  his 
shoulders,  loose,  hulking,  under  the  yellow  silk  of 
his  jacket. 


THE  CURSE  OF  NENEK  KABAYAN  25 

"  By  no  means,  sir.  As  a  personal  favor  to  me, 
however,  I'm  asking  you  not  to  strike  that  girl."  The 
doctor's  voice  was  shaking;  yet  still  he  sat  there  at 
the  table,  holding  his  cards  in  a  quivering  hand. 

"  You  look  out  for  your  own  skin,  sawbones !  " 
Briggs  menaced.  "  The  woman's  mine  to  do  with 
as  I  please,  an'  it's  nobody's  damn  business,  you  lay 
to  that!  I'll  love  her  or  beat  her  or  throw  her  to  the 
sharks,  as  I  see  fit.  So  now  you  hear  me,  an'  I  warn 
you  proper,  stand  clear  o'  me,  or  watch  out  for 
squalls !  " 

Into  the  cabin  he  lunged,  just  as  another  door, 
opening,  disclosed  a  sleepy-eyed,  yellow-haired  young 
man  —  Mr.  Wansley,  second-mate  of  the  devil-ship. 
Wansley  stared,  and  the  doctor  stood  up  with  doubled 
fists,  as  they  heard  the  sound  of  blows  from  within, 
then  shriller  cries,  ending  in  a  kind  of  gurgle  —  then 
silence. 

The  doctor  gripped  both  hands  together,  striving 
to  hold  himself.  The  life  of  every  white  man  aboard 
now  depended  absolutely  on  seeing  this  thing  through 
without  starting  mutiny  and  war. 

"  Get  back  in  your  cabin,  Mr.  Wansley,  for  God's 
sake !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  or  go  on  deck !  The  captain's 
crazy  drunk.  If  he  sees  you  here,  there'll  be  hell  to 
pay.  Get  out,  quick !  " 

Wansley  grasped  the  situation  and  made  a  speedy 
exit  up  the  after-companion,  just  ahead  of  Briggs's  re 
turn.  The  captain  banged  his  cabin  door,  and  stag- 
ered  back  to  the  table.  He  dusted  his  palms  one 
against  the  other. 

"  The  black  she-dog  won't  whine  again,  for  one 
while,"  he  grinned  with  white  teeth  through  his  mat 
of  beard.  "  That's  the  only  way  to  teach  'em  their 
lesson !  "  He  clenched  both  fists,  turning  them,  ad 
miring  them  under  the  lamp-light.  "  Great  pacifiers, 


26  CURSED 

eh,  sawbones?  7  tell  you!  Beat  a  dog  an'  a  woman, 
an'  you  can't  go  far  off  your  course.  So  now  I'll 
deal  the  cards,  an'  win  every  cent  you've  got ! " 

"  The  cards  are,  dealt,  sir,"  answered  Filhiol,  chalky 
to  the  lips. 

"  Yes,  an'  you've  been  here  with  'em,  all  alone !  " 
retorted  the  captain.  "  No,  sir,  that  won't  go.  Fresh 
deal  — here,  I'll  do  it!" 

He  gathered  the  dealt  hands  and  unsteadily  began 
shufflling,  while  the  doctor,  teeth  set  in  lip,  swallowed 
the  affront.  Some  of  the  cards  escaped  the  drunken 
brute's  thick  fingers;  two  or  three  dropped  to  the  floor. 

"  Pick  'em  up,  sir,"  directed  Briggs.  "  No  captain 
of  my  stamp  bends  his  back  before  another  man  — 
an'  besides,  I  know  you'd  be  glad  to  knife  me,  while 
I  was  down !  " 

Filhiol  made  no  answer.  He  merely  obeyed,  and 
handed  the  cards  to  Briggs,  who  was  about  to  deal, 
when  all  at  once  his  hands  arrested  their  motion.  His 
eyes  fixed  themselves  in  an  incredulous,  widening  stare, 
at  the  forward  cabin  door.  His  massive  jaw  dropped. 
A  sound  escaped  his  throat,  but  no  word  came. 

The  doctor  spun  his  chair  around.  He,  too,  beheld 
a  singular  apparition;  though  how  it  could  have  got 
there  —  unless  collusion  had  been  at  work  among  the 
Malays  in  the  waist  —  seemed  hard  to  understand. 

So  silently  the  door  had  slid,  that  the  coming  of  the 
aged  native  woman  had  made  no  sound.  Aged  she 
seemed,  incredibly  old,  wizen,  dried ;  though  with  these 
people  who  can  tell  of  age?  The  dim  light  revealed 
her  barefooted,  clad  in  a  short,  gaudily-striped  skirt, 
a  tight-wrapped  body-cloth  that  bound  her  shrunken 
breast.  Coins  dangled  from  her  ears ;  her  straight 
black  hair  was  drawn  back  flatly;  her  lips,  reddened 
with  lime  and  betel,  showed  black,  sharp-filed  teeth  in 
a  horrible  snarl  of  hatred. 


THE  CURSE  OF  NENEK  KABAYAN  27 

Silent,  a  strange  yellow  ghostlike  thing,  she  crept 
nearer.  Briggs  sprang  up,  snatched  the  rum-bottle  by 
its  neck  and  waited,  quivering.  Right  well  he  knew 
the  woman  —  old  Dengan  Jouga,  mother  of  Kuala, 
his  prey. 

For  the  first  time  in  years  unnerved,  he  stood  there. 
Had  she  rushed  in  at  him,  screamed,  vociferated, 
clawed  with  hooked  talons,  beaten  at  him  with  skinny 
fists,  he  would  have  knocked  her  senseless,  dragged 
her  on  deck  and  flung  her  to  the  bund;  but  this  cold, 
silent,  beady-eyed  approach  took  all  his  sails  aback. 

Only  for  a  moment,  however.  Briggs  was  none 
of  your  impressionable  men,  the  less  so  when  in 
drink. 

"Get  out!"  he  shouted,  brandishing  the  bottle. 
"  Out  o'  this,  or  by  God  — 

The  door,  opening  again,  disclosed  the  agitated 
face  of  Texel,  a  foremast  hand. 

"  Cap'n  Briggs,  sir !  "  exclaimed  this  wight,  touch 
ing  his  cap,  "  one  o'  the  Malays  says  she,  there,  has 
got  news  o'  Mr.  Scurlock  an'  the  boy,  sir,  that  you'll 
want  to  hear.  He's  out  here  now,  the  Malay  is. 
Will  I  tell  him  to  come  in?  " 

"  I  could  have  you  flogged,  you  scum,  for  darin' 
to  come  into  my  cabin  till  you're  called,"  shouted 
Briggs.  "  But  send  the  pig  in!  " 

The  bottle  lowered,  as  Briggs  peered  frowning  at 
the  silent  hag.  Uncanny,  this  stillness  was.  Tem 
pests,  hurricanes  of  passion  and  of  hate  would  have 
quite  suited  him;  but  the  old  Malay  crone,  standing 
there  half-way  to  the  table,  the  light  glinting  from 
her  deep  coal-black  eyes,  her  withered  hands  clutch 
ing  each  other  across  her  wasted  body,  disconcerted 
even  his  bull-like  crassness. 

The  seaman  turned  and  whistled.  At  once,  a 
Malay  slid  noiselessly  in,  salaamed  and  stood  wait- 


28  CURSED 

ing.  Texel,  nervously  fingering  the  cap  he  held  in  his 
hands,  lingered  by  the  door. 

"Oh,  it's  you  again,  Mud  Baby,  is  it?"  cried  the 
bucko.  "  What's  the  news  Dengan  Jouga  has  for 
me?  Tell  her  to  hand  it  over  an'  then  clear  out! 
Savvy?" 

"  Captain,  sahib,  sar,"  stammered  Mahmud,  almost 
gray  with  fear,  every  lean  limb  aquiver  with  the  most 
extraordinary  panic.  "  She  says  Mr.  Scurlock,  an' 
boy,  him  prisoner.  You  give  up  girl,  Kuala  Pahang. 
No  givem — " 

The  sentence  ended  in  a  quick  stroke  of  the  Malay's 
forefinger  across  the  windpipe,  a  whistling  sound. 

Briggs  stared  and  swore.  The  doctor  laid  a  hand 
on  his  arm. 

"  Checkmated,  sir,"  said  he.  "  The  old  woman 
wins." 

"  Like  hell !  "  roared  the  captain.  "  I  don't  know 
what  the  devil  she's  talkin'  about.  If  Scurlock  an' 
the  boy  get  their  fool  throats  cut,  it's  their  own  fault. 
They're  bein'  punished  for  mutiny.  No  girl  here,  at 
all!  You,  Mud  Baby,  tell  that  to  old  Jezebel!" 

Mahmud  nodded,  and  slid  into  a  sing-song  chatter. 
The  woman  gave  ear,  all  the  while  watching  Briggs 
with  the  unwinking  gaze  of  a  snake.  She  flung  back 
a  few  crisp  words  at  Mahmud. 

"  Well,  what  now  ?  "  demanded  Briggs. 

"She  say,  you  lie,  captain,  sar!" 

"I  lie,  do  I?"  vociferated  the  bucko.  He  heaved 
the  bottle  aloft  and  would  have  struck  the  hag  full 
force,  had  not  the  doctor  caught  his  arm,  and  held  it 
fast. 

"  My  God,  captain !  "  cried  Filhiol,  gusty  with  rage 
and  fear.  "  You  want  mutiny  ?  Want  the  whole 
damned  town  swarming  over  us,  with  torch  and 
kris?" 


THE  CURSE  OF  NENEK  KABAYAN  29 

Briggs  tried  to  fling  him  off,  but  the  doctor  clung, 
in  desperation.  Mahmud  Baba  wailed: 

"  No,  no,  captain !  No  touch  her !  She  very  bad 
luck  —  she  Nenek  Kabayan !  " 

"  What  the  devil  do  /  care?"  roared  Briggs,  stag 
gering  as  he  struggled  with  the  doctor.  "  She's  got 
to  get  out  o'  my  cabin,  or  by  — " 

"  She's  a  witch-woman !  "  shouted  Filhiol,  clinging 
fast  "  That  means  a  witch,  Nenek  Kabayan  does. 
If  you  strike  her,  they'll  tear  your  heart  out!" 

Mahmud,  in  the  extremity  of  his  terror,  clasped 
thin,  brown  hands,  groveled,  clutching  at  the  captain's 
knees.  Briggs  kicked  him  away  like  a  dog. 

"  Get  out,  you  an'  everybody ! "  he  bellowed. 
"  Doctor,  I'll  lay  you  in  irons  for  this.  Into  the  la 
zaret  you  go,  so  help  me ! " 

The  witch-woman,  raising  crooked  claws  against 
him,  hurled  shrill  curses  at  Briggs  —  wild,  unintelli 
gible  things,  in  a  wail  so  penetrantly  heart-shaking, 
that  even  the  captain's  bull-like  rage  shuddered. 

From  the  floor,  Mahmud  raised  appealing  hands. 

"  She  say,  give  girl  or  she  make  orang  onto  kill 
everybody !  "  cried  the  Malay.  "  Orang  onto,  bad 
ghost!  She  say  she  make  sabali  —  sacrifice  —  of 
everybody  on  ship."  His  voice  broke,  raw,  in  a 
frenzy  of  terror.  "  She  say  Vishnu  lay  curse  on  us, 
dead  men  come  out  of  graves,  be  wolves,  be  tigers  — 
mcnjelma  kramat  —  follow  us  everywhere !  " 

"  Shut  your  jaw,  idiot!  "  shouted  Briggs,  but  in  a 
tone  less  brutal.  The  man  was  shaken.  Not  all  his 
bluster  could  blink  that  fact.  The  doctor  loosed  his 
arm;  Briggs  did  not  raise  the  bottle,  now,  to  strike. 
On  and  on  wailed  Mahmud : 

"  She  say  chandra  wasi,  birds  of  ocean  foam,  poison 
us,  an'  Zemrud,  him  what  keep  life,  leave  us.  She 
say  blind  face  in  sky  watch  you,  cap'n,  sahib,  an'  laugh, 


30  CURSED 

an'  you  want  to  die,  but  you  not  die.  She  say  you' 
life  be  more  poison  than  katchubong  flowers  —  she 
say  evil  seed  grow  in  you'  heart,  all  life  long  —  she 
say  somethin'  you  love,  cap'n,  sar,  somethin'  you  love 
more  than  you'  life,  sometime  die,  an'  you  die  then 
but  still  you  not  die!  She  say — " 

Briggs  chewed  and  spat  a  curse  and,  turning  to  the 
table,  sat  down  heavily  there.  Astonished,  Filhiol 
stared  at  him.  Never  had  he  seen  the  captain  in  this 
mood.  A  wild  attack,  assault,  even  murder,  would  not 
have  surprised  the  doctor;  but  this  strange  quietude 
surpassed  belief.  Filhiol  leaned  over  Briggs,  as  he 
sat  there  sagging,  staring  at  the  witch-woman  still  in 
furious  tirade. 

"  Captain,"  he  whispered,  "  you're  going  to  give  up 
the  girl,  of  course?  You're  going  to  save  Mr.  Scur- 
lock  and  the  boy,  and  keep  this  shriveled  monkey  of  a 
witch  from  raising  the  town  against  us  ?  " 

Briggs  only  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  in  a  strange,  weary  voice. 
"  She  can't  have  her,  an'  that's  flat.  I  don't  give  a 
damn  for  the  deserters,  an'  if  it  comes  to  a  fight,  we 
got  our  signal-cannon  an'  enough  small-arms  to  make 
it  hot  for  all  the  natives  between  here  an'  hell.  The 
girl's  plump  as  a  young  porpoise,  an'  she's  mine,  an' 
I'm  going  to  keep  her ;  you  can  lay  to  that !  " 

Mahmud,  still  stammering  crude  translation  of  the 
witch-woman's  imprecations,  crawled  to  Briggs's  feet. 
Briggs  kicked  the  man  away,  once  more,  and  burst 
into  a  jangle  of  laughter. 

"  Get  'em  all  out  o'  here,  sawbones,"  said  he,  his 
head  sagging.  The  life  seemed  to  have  departed  from 
him.  "  I'm  tired  of  all  this  hullabaloo."  He  opened 
his  table  drawer  and  drew  out  an  army  revolver. 
"  Three  minutes  for  you  to  get  'em  all  out,  doctor, 
or  I  begin  shootin '." 


THE  CURSE  OF  NENEK  K  ABA  VAN  31 

In  the  redness  of  his  eye,  bleared  with  drink  and 
rage,  Filhiol  read  cold  murder.  He  dragged  Mah- 
mud  up,  and  herded  him,  with  Texel  and  the  now 
silent  witch-woman,  out  the  forward  cabin  door. 

"  You  get  out,  too !  "  mouthed  the  captain,  dully. 
"  I'll  have  no  sawbones  sneakin'  and  spyin'  on  my 
honeymoon.  Get  out,  afore  I  break  you  in  ways  your 
books  don't  tell  you  how  to  fix !  " 

The  doctor  gave  him  one  silent  look.  Then,  very 
tight-lipped,  he  issued  out  beneath  the  awning,  where 
among  the  Malays  a  whispering  buzz  of  talk  was  for 
ward. 

As  he  wearily  climbed  the  companion  ladder,  he 
heard  the  bolt  go  home,  in  the  cabin  door.  A  dull, 
strange  laugh  reached  his  ears,  with  mumbled  words. 

"  God  save  us,  now !  "  prayed  Filhiol,  for  the  first 
time  in  twenty  years.  "  God  save  and  keep  us,  now !  " 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    MALAY    FLEET    OF    WAR 

Dawn,  leaping  out  of  Motomolo  Strait,  flinging  its 
gold-wrought,  crimson  mantle  over  an  oily  sea  that 
ached  with  crawling  color,  found  the  clipper  ship, 
whereon  rested  the  curse  of  old  Dengan  jouga,  set 
fast  and  fair  on  the  sandspit  of  Ula  Salama,  eight 
miles  off  the  mouth  of  the  Timbago  River. 

Fair  and  fast  she  lay  there,  on  a  tide  very  near  low 
ebb,  so  that  two  hours  or  such  a  matter  would  float 
her  again ;  but  in  two  hours  much  can  happen  and  much 
was  destined  to. 

At  the  taffrail,  looking  landward  where  the  sand- 
dunes  of  the  river  met  the  sea,  and  where  tamarisk 
and  mangrove-thickets  and  pandan-clumps  lay  dark 
against  the  amethyst-hazed  horizon,  Dr.  Filhiol  and 
Mr.  Wansley  —  now  first  mate  of  the  Silver  Fleece, 
with  Prass  installed  as  second  —  were  holding  moody 
speech. 

"  As  luck  goes,"  the  doctor  was  growling,  "  this 
voyage  outclasses  anything  I've  ever  known.  This 
puts  the  climax  on  —  this  Scurlock  matter,  and  the 
yellow  girl,  and  going  aground." 

"  We  did  the  best  we  could,  sir,"  affirmed  Wansley, 
hands  deep  in  jacket  pockets.  "  With  just  tops'ls  an' 
fores'ls  on  her — " 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  criticising  your  navigation,  Mr.  Wans 
ley."  the  doctor  interrupted.  "  The  old  man,  of  course, 
is  the  only  one  who  knows  the  bars,  and  we  didn't 
dare  wait  for  him  to  wake  up.  Yes,  you  did  very 

32 


THE  MALAY  FLEET  OF  WAR          33 

well  indeed.  If  you'd  been  carrying  full  canvas,  you'd 
have  sprung  her  butts,  when  she  struck,  and  maybe 
lost  a  stick  or  two.  Perhaps  there's  no  great  harm 
done,  after  all,  if  we  can  hold  this  damned  crew." 

Thus  hopefully  the  doctor  spoke,  under  the  long, 
level  shafts  of  day  breaking  along  the  gold  and  purple 
waters  that  further  off  to  sea  blended  into  pale  greens 
and  lovely  opalescences.  But  his  eyes,  turning  now 
and  then  towards  the  ship's  waist,  and  his  ear,  keen 
to  pick  up  a  more  than  usual  chatter  down  there  under 
the  weather-yellowed  awnings,  belied  his  words. 

Now,  things  were  making  that  the  doctor  knew  not 
of;  things  that,  had  he  known  them,  would  have  very 
swiftly  translated  his  dull  anxieties  into  active  fears. 
For  down  the  mud-laden  river,  whose  turbid  flood 
tinged  Motomolo  Strait  with  coffee  five  miles  at  sea, 
a  fleet  of  motley  craft  was  even  now  very  purposefully 
making  way. 

This  fleet  was  sailing  with  platted  bamboo-mats 
bellying  on  the  morning  breeze,  with  loose-stepped 
masts  and  curiously  tangled  rattan  cordage;  or,  in 
part,  was  pulling  down-stream  with  carven  oars  and 
paddles  backed  by  the  strength  of  well-oiled  brown 
and  yellow  arms. 

A  fleet  it  was,  laden  to  the  topmost  carving  of  its 
gunwales  with  deadly  hate  of  the  white  men.  A  fleet 
hastily  swept  together  by  the  threats,  promises  and 
curses  of  old  Dengan  Jouga,  the  witch-woman.  A 
rescue  fleet,  for  the  salvation  of  the  yellow  girl  —  a 
fleet  grim  either  to  take  her  back  to  Batu  Kawan,  or 
else  to  leave  the  charred  ribs  of  the  Silver  Fleece 
smoldering  on  Ulu  Salama  bar  as  a  funeral  pyre  over 
the  bones  of  every  hated  orang  puti,  white  man,  that 
trod  her  cursed  decks. 

Nineteen  boats  in  all  there  were;  seven  sail-driven, 
twelve  thrust  along  with  oars  and  paddles  cunningly 


'34  CURSED 

fashioned  from  teak  and  tiu  wood.  These  nineteen 
boats  carried  close  on  three  hundred  fighting  men, 
many  of  them  head-hunters  lured  by  the  prospect  of  a 
white  man's  head  to  give  their  sweethearts. 

A  sinister  and  motley  crew,  indeed;  some  of  chief's 
rank,  clad  in  rare  feather  cloaks,  but  for  the  most  part 
boasting  no  garment  save  the  de  rigueur  breech-clout. 
Among  them  rowed  no  less  than  eight  or  ten  Mo 
hammedan  amok  fanatics,  who  had  sworn  on  the  beard 
of  the  Prophet  to  take  a  Frank  dog's  life  or  else  to 
die  —  in  either  event  surely  destined  for  paradise  and 
the  houris'  arms.  And  one  of  these  fanatics  was  the 
turtle-egg  seller,  with  special  hopes  in  mind  which  for 
the  present  cannot  be  divulged. 

Under  the  leadership  of  Dengan  Jouga  and  a  lean, 
painted  pawang,  or  medicine-man,  the  war  fleet  crawled 
downstream.  Spears,  axes,  stone  and  iron  maces  with 
ornate  hafts  bristled  in  all  the  long  war-canoes,  high- 
prowed  and  gaudy  with  flaring  colors.  Blow-guns, 
too,  were  there,  carrying  venomed  darts,  and  krises 
by  the  score  —  wavy-edged  blades,  heavy  and  long, 
that,  driven  by  a  sinewed  arm,  would  slice  through 
a  man's  neck  as  if  it  had  been  ghee,  or  melted  butter; 
would  open  a  man's  body  broad  to  the  light  of  day; 
or,  slashing  downward,  split  him  from  crown  to  collar 
bone. 

The  morning  shafts  of  sun  glinted,  too,  on  gun- 
barrels  —  old  flintlock  muzzle-loaders,  with  a  few  an 
tique  East  India  Company's  rifles  that  in  some  ob 
scure  channels  of  trade  had  worked  their  way  up  the 
east  coast  of  the  Malay  Peninsula  to  Batu  Kawan. 
Some  bowmen  had  long  arrows  wrapped  in  oil-soaked 
cotton  pledgets.  Such  fire-balls,  shot  into  the  sun- 
dried  canvas  of  the  clipper,  might  go  far  towards 
leaving  her  bones  ableach  on  Ulu  Salama. 

Nor  was  this  all.     More  formidable  still  was  a  small, 


THE  MALAY  FLEET  OF  WAR          35 

brass  cannon,  securely  lashed  in  the  bows  of  a  sea 
going  proa,  its  lateen  sail  all  patched  with  brown  and 
blue;  a  proa  manned  by  fifty  chosen  warriors,  and 
carrying  the  medicine  man  and  Dengan  Jouga  herself. 
True,  the  Malays  had  only  a  scant  dozen  charges  for 
their  ordnance,  but  if  they  could  catch  the  hull  of  the 
Silver  Fleece  between  wind  and  water,  as  she  careened 
on  the  bar,  they  might  so  riddle  her  that  the  up-coming 
tide  would  pour  her  full  of  brine. 

Down  the  fever-smelling  river,  steaming  with  heat 
and  purple  haze  under  the  mounting  sun,  the  war-fleet 
drove,  between  lush  banks  now  crowded  with  sandal 
and  angsana-trees  all  clustered  with  their  lolling,  yel 
low  blooms,  now  mere  thickets  where  apes  and  scream 
ing  parrots  rioted  amid  snarled  labyrinths  of  lianas, 
now  sinking  into  swamps  choked  with  bamboo  and 
lalang  grass. 

In  some  occasional  pool,  pink  lotus-blossoms  con 
trasted  with  fragrant  charm  against  the  vivid,  un 
healthy  green  of  marsh  and  forest.  And,  louder  than 
the  crooning  war-songs  that  unevenly  drifted  on  the 
shimmering  air,  the  loomlike  whir  of  myriad  trum 
peter-beetles  blurred  the  waiting  day  whose  open  eye 
shrank  not  from  what  must  be. 

Here,  there,  a  fisherman's  hut  extended  its  crazy 
platform  out  over  the  sullen  waters.  From  such  plat 
forms,  yellow-brown  folk  with  braided  top-knots 
shouted  words  of  good  augury  to  the  on-toiling  war 
riors.  Naked,  pot-bellied  children  stood  and  stared 
in  awe.  Flea-tormented  curs  barked  dolefully.  And 
from  such  fisher-boats,  as  lay  anchored  in  the  stream, 
rose  shouts  of  joy.  For,  in  the  mysterious  way  of  the 
Orient,  the  news  of  the  great,  black  deed  done  by  the 
devil-captain,  Briggs  Sahib,  had  already  run  all  down 
the  Timbago. 

Thus   the  war-fleet  labored  downward  to  the  sea, 


36  CURSED 

coming  [towards  the  hour  that  a  landsman  would  call 
eight  o'clock,]  to  salt  water.  Withered  Dengan  Jouga, 
crouching  snake-eyed  in  the  proa,  caught  sight  of  the 
long,  turquoise  line  that  marked  the  freedom  of  the 
open. 

She  pointed  a  skinny  arm,  flung  a  word  at  Akan 
Mawar,  the  medicine  man,  and  clutched  more  tightly 
the  thin-bladed  knife  which  —  so  all  had  sworn  to  her 
—  she,  and  only  she,  should  plunge  into  the  heart  of 
the  black-bearded  devil.  Silently  she  waited,  as  the 
seascape  broadened.  The  sunlight,  sparkling  on  that 
watery  plain,  dazzled  her  eyes  like  the  shimmer  of 
powdered  glass,  but  still  she  peered,  eager  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  Silver  Fleece.  Her  betel-reddened 
lips  moved  again.  She  whispered : 

"  My  daughter  I  shall  have.  His  blood,  his  blood 
I  shall  have,  even  though  he  flee  from  me  di-atas  angin, 
beyond  the  back  of  the  wind!  King  Surana,  who 
reigns  in  the  watery  depths,  will  give  him  to  me. 
Even  though  he  flee  through  the  Silken  Sea,  at  the 
end  of  the  world,  I  shall  have  his  blood!  Tuan  Allah 
poonia  krajah!  It  is  the  work  of  the  Almighty." 

"  Tuun  Allah  poonia  krajah! "  echoed  old  Akan 
Mawar;  and  other  voices  raised  the  supplication. 
Back  drifted  the  words  from  boat  to  boat ;  the  whole 
river  murmured  with  confused  echoes :  "  Tuan  Allah 
poonia  krajah!" 

Now  silence  fell  again,  but  for  the  lipping  of  cleft 
waters  at  many  prows,  the  dip  of  oars,  the  little 
whispering  swirl  of  eddies  where  paddles  lifted. 
Bright-yellow  sands,  here  and  there  gleaming  pearl- 
white  with  millions  of  turtle-eggs,  extended  seaward 
from  the  river-mouth,  pointing  like  a  dagger  of  men 
ace  at  Ulu  Salama  bar  eight  miles  to  sea ;  the  bar  that 
Alpheus  Briggs  so  easily  could  have  left  to  starboard, 


THE  MALAY  FLEET  OF  WAR          37 

had  he  not  been  sleeping  off  the  fumes  of  samshu  in 
the  cabin  with  Kuala  Pahang. 

Cries  from  the  proa  and  the  war-canoes  echoed 
across  the  waters.  No  longer  could  savagery  repress 
its  rage.  Already,  far  and  dim  through  the  set  of 
haze  that  brooded  over  Motomolo  Strait,  dimming  the 
liquid  light  of  morning,  eyes  of  eager  hate  had  seen 
a  distant  speck.  A  tiny  blot  it  was,  against  the 
golden  welter  on  the  eastern  horizon ;  a  blot  whence 
rose  fine-pricked  masts  and  useless  sails. 

And  spontaneously  there  rose  an  antiphonal  pantun, 
or  song  of  war.  Up  from  the  fleet  it  broke,  under  the 
shrill  lead  of  the  hag,  now  standing  with  clenched, 
skinny  fists  raised  high.  She  wailed : 

Adapoun  pipit  itou  sama  pipit  djouga! 

Others  answered.  A  drum  of  bamboo,  headed  with 
snake-skin,  began  to  throb. 

Dan  yang  enggang  itou  sama  enggang  djouga! 

As  the  echoes  died,  again  rose  the  witch-woman's 
voice,  piercing,  resonant : 

Bourga  sedap  dispakey! 

The  others  then : 

Layou  —  dibouang ! 1 
The  song  continued,  intoned  by  the  witch-woman 

1  This  chant,  freely  translated,  bespeaks  the  horror  of  the 
Malay  at  any  admixture  with  a  foreigner,  thus :  "  Let  the  spar 
row  mate  with  but  the  sparrow  only,  and  the  parrot  with  the 
parrot  only.  While  a  flower  is  pleasing  to  man,  he  wears  it. 
When  it  fades,  man  throws  it  away." 


38  CURSED 

with  choral  responses  from  the  fighting  men.  From 
lament  it  passed  to  savage  threats  of  death  by  torture 
and  by  nameless  mutilations.  Maces  began  to  clatter 
on  shields,  krises  to -glint  in  sunlight,  severed  heads 
of  enemies  to  wave  aloft  on  spears. 

And  out  over  the  liquid  rainbow  surface  of  the  strait 
rolled  a  long  echo,  blent  of  war-cries,  shouts  of  ven 
geance,  the  booming  of  snake-skin  drums  —  defiance 
of  the  human  wolf -pack  now  giving  wild  tongue. 

Dr.  Filhiol  and  Mr.  Wansley  stopped  in  their  speech 
and  raised  peering  eyes  landward,  as  some  faint  ver- 
beration  of  the  war-shout  drifted  down  upon  them. 
The  doctor's  brows  drew  to  a  frown;  he  narrowed 
his  keen  eyes  toward  the  line  of  hot,  damp  hills.  Mr. 
Wansley  pushed  back  his  cap  and  scratched  his  head. 
Together  they  stood  at  the  rail,  not  yet  glimpsing  the 
war-fleet  which  still  moved  in  partial  concealment 
along  the  wooded  shore. 

Into  their  silence,  a  harsh,  liquor-roughened  voice 
broke  suddenly: 

"  Empty  staring  for  empty  brains !  Nothin'  better 
to  do  than  look  your  eyes  out  at  the  worst  coast,  so 
help  me,  God  ever  made?" 

Neither  answered.  Mr.  Wansley  surveyed  in 
silence  the  hulking,  disordered  figure  now  coming  for 
ward  from  the  after  companion.  The  doctor  drew  a 
cigar  from  his  waistcoat  pocket  and  lighted  it.  Com 
plete  silence  greeted  Briggs  —  silence  through  which 
the  vague  turmoil  trembling  across  the  mother-of-pearl 
iridescence  of  the  strait  still  reached  the  Silver  Fleece. 


CHAPTER  VI 

COUNCIL  OF  WAR 

A  moment  the  two  men  eyed  the  captain.  Malay 
voices  sounded  under  the  awning.  Forward,  a  laugli 
drifted  on  the  heat-shimmering  air.  Briggs  cursed, 
and  still  came  on. 

A  sorry  spectacle  he  made,  tousled,  bleary-eyed,  with 
pain-contracted  forehead  where  the  devil's  own  head 
ache  was  driving  spikes.  Right  hand  showed  lacer 
ations,  from  having  struck  the  wheel.  Heavy  should 
ers  sagged,  head  drooped.  Angrily  he  blinked,  his 
mood  to  have  torn  up  the  world  and  spat  upon  the 
fragments  in  very  spite. 

"  Well,  lost  your  tongues,  have  you  ?  "  he  snarled. 
"  I'm  used  to  being  answered  on  my  own  ship.  You, 
Mr.  Wansley,  would  do  better  reading  your  '  Bow- 
ditch  '  than  loafing.  And  you,  doctor,  I  want  you  to 
mix  me  a  stiff  powder  for  the  damnedest  headache  that 
ever  tangled  my  top-hamper.  I've  had  a  drink  or  two, 
maybe  three,  already  this  morning.  But  that  does  no 
good.  Fix  me  up  something  strong.  Come,  stir  a 
stump,  sir !  I'm  going  to  be  obeyed  on  my  own  ship !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  doctor,  keeping  his  tongue 
between  his  teeth,  as  the  saying  is.  He  started  aft, 
followed  by  Wansley.  Briggs  burst  out  again : 

"  Insubordination,  mutiny  —  that's  all  I  get,  this 
voyage ! "  His  fists  swung,  aching  for  a  target. 
"  Look  what's  happened !  Against  my  orders  you, 
Mr.  Wansley,  try  to  take  the  Fleece  to  sea.  And  run 

39 


40  CURSED 

her  aground !  By  God,  sir,  I  could  have  you  disrated 
for  that!  I'd  put  you  in  irons  for  the  rest  of  the 
voyage  if  I  didn't  need  you  on  deck.  Understand  me, 
sir?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Wansley,  with  exceeding 
meekness.  Briggs  was  about  to  flare  out  at  him  again, 
and  might  very  well  have  come  to  fist-work,  when 
a  hard,  round  little  concussion,  bowling  seaward,  struck 
his  ear. 

At  sound  of  the  shot,  the  captain  swung  on  his 
heel,  gripped  the  rail  and  stared  shoreward. 

"  What  the  hell  is  that ?  "  demanded  he,  unable  to 
conceal  a  sudden  fear  that  had  stabbed  through  the 
thrice-dyed  blackness  of  his  venom. 

"  I  rather  think,  sir,"  answered  Filhiol,  blowing  a 
ribbon  of  smoke  on  the  still  morning  air,  "  it's  trouble 
brewing.  By  Jove,  sir  —  see  that,  will  you?" 

His  hand  directed  the  captain's  reddened  eyes  far 
across  the  strait  toward  the  coastal  hills,  palm-crowded. 
Vaguely  the  captain  saw  a  long,  dim  line.  At  its  for 
ward  end,  just  a  speck  against  the  greenery,  a  triangle 
of  other  color  was  creeping  on.  Briggs  knew  it  for  the 
high  sail  of  a  proa. 

"  H-m !  "  he  grunted.  Under  the  bushy  blackness 
of  his  brows  he  stared  with  blood-injected  eyes.  His 
muscles  tautened.  Suddenly  he  commanded: 

"  Mr.  Wansley,  my  glass,  sir !  " 

The  doctor  pursed  anxious  lips  as  Wansley  departed 
toward  the  companion. 

"Trouble,  sir?"  asked  he. 

"  I'll  tell  you  when  there's  trouble !  How  can  I 
hear  any  thin',  with  your  damned  jaw-tackle  always 
busy?  " 

.  The  doctor  shut  up,  clamwise,  and  leaned  elbows  on 
the  rail,  and  so  they  stood  there,  each  peering,  each 
listening,  each  thinking  his  own  thoughts. 


COUNCIL  OF  WAR  41 

Mr.  Wansley's  return,  brass  telescope  in  hand,  broke 
both  lines  of  reflection.  Briggs  snatched  the  glass, 
yearning  to  knock  Wansley  flat,  as  he  might  have  done 
a  cabin-boy.  Wansley  peered  at  him  with  bitter  ma 
levolence. 

"  You  hell-devil !  "  muttered  he.  "  You've  mur 
dered  two  of  us  already,  an'  like  as  not  you'll  murder 
all  of  us  before  you're  done.  If  the  sharks  had  you 
this  minute  — " 

"By  the  Judas  priest!"  ejaculated  Briggs,  glass 
at  eye.  He  swung  it  left  and  right.  "  Now  you 
lubberly  sons  of  swabs  have  got  me  on  a  lee-shore  with 
all  anchors  draggin' !  " 

"What  is  it,  sir?"  demanded  Filhiol,  calmly. 

"What  is  it?"  roared  the  captain,  neck  and  face 
scarlet.  "  After  you  help  run  the  Silver  Fleece  on 
Ulu  Salama  bar,  where  that  damned  war-party  can 
close  in  on  her,  you  ask  me  what  it  is !  Holy  Jere 
miah!" 

"  See  here,  Captain  Briggs."  The  doctor's  voice 
cut  incisively.  "If  that's  a  war-party,  we've  got  no 
time  to  waste  in  abuse.  Please  let  me  use  that  glass 
and  see  for  myself." 

"Use  nothing!"  shouted  Briggs.  "What?  Call 
me  a  liar,  do  you?  I  tell  you  it  is  a  war-party  with 
five  —  eight  —  twelve  —  well,  about  sixteen  boats  and 
a  proa,  I  make  it;  and  you  stand  there  and  call  me  a 
liar!" 

"  I  call  you  nothing,  sir,"  retorted  the  physician,  his 
face  impassive.  In  spite  of  anger,  Filhiol  compre 
hended  that  he  and  Briggs  represented  the  best  brain 
power  on  the  clipper.  Under  the  urge  of  peril  these 
two  must  temporarily  sink  all  differences  and  stand 
together.  "  You  say  there's  a  war-party  coming  out. 
I  place  myself  at  your  orders." 

"  Same  here,  sir,"  put  in  Mr.  Wansley.     "  What's  to 


42  CURSED 

be  done,  sir?"  Urgent  peril  had  stifled  the  fires  of 
hate. 

"  Call  Mr.  Prass  and  Mr.  Crevay,"  answered  the 
captain,  sobered.  "  You,  doctor,  mix  me  up  that 
powder,  quick.  Here,  I'll  go  with  you.  You've  got 
to  stop  this  damned  headache  of  mine!  Look  lively, 
Mr.  Wansley !  Get  Bevans,  too,  and  Gascar !  " 

In  five  minutes  the  war-council  was  under  way  on 
the  after-deck.  Already  the  doctor's  drug  had  begun 
to  loosen  the  bands  of  pain  constricting  the  captain's 
brow.  Something  of  Briggs's  normal  fighting  energy 
was  returning.  The  situation  was  already  coming 
under  his  strong  hand. 

Careful  inspection  through  the  glass  confirmed  the 
opinion  that  a  formidable  war-fleet  was  headed 
toward  Ulu  Salama  bar.  The  far,  vague  sound  of 
chanting  and  of  drums  clinched  matters. 

"  We've  got  to  meet  'em  with  all  wre've  got,"  said 
Briggs,  squinting  through  the  tube.  "  There's  a  few 
hundred  o'  the  devils.  Our  game  is  to  keep  'em  from 
closing  in.  If  they  board  us  —  well,  they  aren't  goin' 
to,  that's  all." 

"  I  don't  like  the  look  o'  things  forrard,  sir,"  put 
in  Crevay,  now  bo'sun  of  the  clipper,  filling  the  posi 
tion  that  Prass  had  vacated  in  becoming  second  mate. 
"Them  Malays,  sir — " 

"  That's  the  hell  of  it,  I  know,"  said  Briggs.  He 
spoke  rationally,  sobered  into  human  decency.  "If 
we  had  a  straight  white  crew,  we  could  laugh  at  the 
whole  o'  Batu  Kawan.  But  our  own  natives  are 
liable  to  run  amok." 

"  We'd  better  iron  the  worst  of  'em.  sir,  an'  clap 
hatches  on  'em,"  suggested  Crevay.  "  There's  seven 
teen  white  men  of  us,  an'  twenty  natives.  If  we  had 
more  whites,  I'd  say  shoot  the  whole  damn  lot  o' 
Malays  an'  chuck  'em  over  to  the  sharks  while  there's 


COUNCIL  OF  WAR  43 

time !  "  His  face  was  deep-lined,  cruel  almost  as  the 
captain's. 

Silence  followed.  Gascar  nodded  approval,  Bevans 
went  a  trifle  pale,  and  Wansley  shook  his  head.  Prass 
turned  his  quid  and  spat  over  the  rail;  the  doctor 
glanced  forward,  squinting  with  eyes  of  calculation. 
Under  the  brightening  sun,  each  face  revealed  the  vary 
ing  thoughts  that  lay  in  each  man's  heart.  Filhiol  was 
first  to  speak. 

"  Those  Malays  are  valuable  to  us,"  said  he.  "  They 
make  excellent  hostages,  if  properly  restrained  in  the 
hold.  But  we  can't  have  them  at  large." 

"  We  can,  and  must,  all  of  'em !  "  snapped  Briggs. 
His  eye  had  cleared  and  once  more  swept  up  the  situa 
tion  with  that  virile  intelligence  which  long  had  made 
him  a  leader  of  men.  His  nostrils  widened,  breathing 
the  air  of  battle.  His  chest,  expanding,  seemed  a 
barrier  against  weakness,  indecision.  The  shadow  of 
death  had  blotted  out  the  madness  of  his  orgy.  He 
stood  there  at  the  rail,  erect,  square-jawed,  a  man  once 
more.  A  man  that  even  those  who  most  bitterly 
hated  him  now  had  to  respect  and  to  obey. 

"  We  need  'em  all,"  he  repeated,  with  the  resonance 
of  hard  decision.  "  We're  short-handed  as  it  is.  We 
need  every  man-jack  of  them,  but  not  to  fight.  They 
won't  fight  for  us.  We  daren't  put  so  much  as  a  clasp- 
knife  in  their  mnrderin'  hands.  But  they  can  work 
for  us,  and,  by  the  Judas  priest,  they  shall !  Our  pis 
tols  can  hold  'em  to  it.  Work,  sweat,  damn  'em  — 
sweat  the  yellow  devils,  as  they  never  sweat  before!  " 

"  How  so,  captain  ?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"  It  '11  be  an  hour  before  that  fleet  lays  alongside. 
There's  a  good  chance  we  can  kedge  off  this  damned 
bar.  Twenty  natives  at  the  poop  capstan,  with  you, 
Mr.  Bevans  —  and  I  guess  I'll  let  the  doctor  lend  a 
hand,  too  —  standing  over  'em  with  cold  lead  —  that's 


44  CURSED 

the  game."  Briggs  laughed  discordantly.  "  How's 
your  nerve,  Mr.  Bevans?  All  right,  sir?" 

Sea-etiquette  was  returning.  Confidence  bright 
ened. 

"Nerve,  sir?     All  right!" 

"  Ever  shoot  a  man  dead  in  his  tracks?  " 

"  I  have,  sir." 

"  Good !  Then  you'll  do!  "  Briggs  slapped  Bevans 
on  the  shoulder.  "  I'll  put  you  and  the  doctor  in  charge 
of  the  natives.  First  one  that  raises  a  hand  off  a 
capstan-bar,  drill  him  through  the  head.  Under 
stand?" 

'  Yes,  sir,"  said  Bevans.     The  doctor  nodded. 

"  That's  settled !  To  work !  We  won't  want  the 
natives  at  large,  though,  till  we  get  the  kedge  over. 
We'll  keep  'em  in  the  'midships  deck-house  for  a  while 
yet.  Doctor,  you  stand  at  the  break  and  shoot  the 
first  son  of  a  hound  that  sticks  his  nose  out.  Mr. 
Wansley,  muster  all  the  white  men  aft  for  instructions. 
Mr.  Prass,  take  what  men  you  need  and  get  up  all  the 
arms  and  ammunition.  First  thing,  get  out  that  stand 
of  rifles  in  my  cabin.  Here's  two  keys.  One  is  my 
private  locker-key,  and  the  other  the  key  to  the  arms- 
locker.  In  my  locker  you'll  find  a  kris.  In  the  other, 
three  revolvers.  Bring  those."  The  captain's  words 
came  crisp,  sharp,  decisive.  "  Bring  up  the  six  navy 
cutlasses  from  the  rack  in  the  cabin.  Mr.  Gascar  will 
help  you.  Mr.  Gascar,  how  many  axes  have  you  got 
in  your  carpenter's  chest?  " 

"  Four,  sir,  and  an  adz." 

"  Bring  'em  all.  Tell  the  cook  to  boil  every  drop  of 
water  he's  got  room  for  on  the  galley  range.  Get  the 
marline  spikes  from  the  bo'sun's  locker  and  lay  'em 
handy.  Cast  loose  the  signal-gun  lashed  down  there 
on  the  main  deck.  We'll  haul  that  up  and  mount  it  at 


COUNCIL  OF  WAR  45 

the  taffrail.  God!  If  they  want  war,  they'll  get  it, 
the  black  scuts!-" 

"  We're  short  of  round-shot  for  the  gun,  sir,"  said 
"  Chips."  "  I  misdoubt  there's  a  dozen  rounds." 

"  No  matter.  Solid  shot  isn't  much  good  for  this 
work.  Get  all  the  bolts,  nuts  and  screws  from  your 
shop  —  all  the  old  iron  junk  you  can  ram  down  her 
throat.  How's  powder?  " 

"  Plenty,  sir." 

"  Good !  We've  got  powder  enough,  men  enough 
and  guts  enough.  To  your  work.  Mr.  Crevay!" 

"  Yes,  sir?  "  A  lank,  bony  man,  Crevay,  with  fiery 
locks  and  a  slashed  cheek  where  a  dirk  had  once  ripped 
deep.  An  ex-navy  man  he,  and  of  fighting  blood. 

"  I'm  goin'  to  have  you  serve  the  gun  when  ready. 
You  and  any  men  you  pick,"  the  captain  told  him, 
while  the  others  departed  each  on  his  own  errand, 
tensely,  yet  without  haste  or  fear.  "  Meanwhile,  I'll 
put  you  in  charge  of  kedgin'  us  off.  Cast  loose  and 
rig  the  kedge-anchor,  lower  it  away  from  that  davy 
there  to  the  longboat,  and  sink  it  about  a  hundred 
fathom  off  the  starb'd  quarter.  With  twenty  Malays 
at  the  capstan-bars,  we  ought  to  start  the  Fleece.  If 
not,  we'll  shift  cargo  from  forrard.  Look  alive,  sir!  " 

"  Yes,  sir ! "  And  Crevay,  too,  departed,  filled 
with  the  energy  that  comes  to  every  man  when  treated 
like  a  man  and  given  a  man's  work  to  do. 

As  by  a  miracle,  the  spirit  of  the  Silver  Fleece  had 
changed.  Discipline  had  all  come  back  with  a  rush; 
the  battling  blood  had  risen.  No  longer,  for  the  mo 
ment,  were  the  captain's  heavy  crimes  and  misde 
meanors  held  against  him.  Briggs  stood  for  author 
ity,  defense  in  face  of  the  peril  of  death.  His  pow 
erful  body  and  stern  spirit  formed  a  rallying-point 
for  every  white  man  aboard.  And  even  those  who 


46  CURSED 

had  most  poisonously  grisled  in  their  hearts  against 
the  man,  now  ran  loyally  to  do  his  bidding. 

Forgotten  was  the  cause  of  all  this  peril  —  the 
stealing  of  Kuala  Pahang,  in  drunken  lust.  Forgot 
ten  the  barbarities  that  had  driven  Mr.  Scurlock  and 
the  boy  ashore.  Forgotten  the  brutal  cynicism  that 
had  refused  to  buy  their  liberty  at  the  price  of  giving 
up  the  girl.  Of  all  these  barbarities,  no  memory 
seemed  now  to  survive.  The  deadly  menace  of 
twenty  Malays  already  growling  in  the  waist  of  the 
ship,  and  of  the  slow-advancing  line  of  war-canoes, 
banished  every  thought  save  one  —  battle ! 

Once  more  Captain  Alpheus  Briggs  had  proved  him 
self,  in  time  of  crisis,  a  man;  more  than  a  man  —  a 
master  of  men. 

Thus,  now,  swift  preparations  had  begun  to  play 
the  game  of  war  in  which  no  quarter  would  be  asked 
or  given. 


CHAPTER  VII 

BEFORE   THE   BATTLE 

Strenuous  activities  leaped  into  being,  aboard  the 
stranded  clipper  ship. 

All  the  Malays  were  herded  in  the  deck-house,  in 
formed  that  they  were  sons  of  swine  and  that  the 
first  one  who  showed  a  face  on  deck,  till  wanted, 
would  be  shot  dead.  The  doctor,  with  a  revolver 
ready  for  business,  added  weight  to  this  information. 

Under  the  orders  of  Mr.  Wansley,  all  the  white 
sailors  came  trooping  aft.  Noisily  and  profanely  they 
came,  making  a  holiday  of  the  impending  slaughter. 
A  hard  company  they  were,  many  in  rags,  for  Briggs 
could  never  have  been  called  other  than  conservative 
regarding  credits  from  the  slop-chest.  Rum,  however, 
he  now  promised  them,  and  whatever  loot  they  could 
garner  from  the  Malay  fleet;  so  they  cheered  him 
heartily.  They,  too,  had  all  become  his  men. 

Bad  men  they  looked,  and  such  as  now  were  needed 
'. —  three  or  four  Liverpool  guttersnipes,  a  Portuguese 
cut-throat  from  Fayal,  a  couple  of  Cayman  wreckers, 
a  French  convict  escaped  from  the  penal  ship  at  Mar 
seilles,  and  the  rest  low-type  American  scum.  For 
such  was  the  reputation  of  Alpheus  Briggs,  all  up  and 
down  the  Seven  Seas,  that  few  first-class  men  ever 
willingly  shipped  with  him  before  the  mast. 

Workers  and  fighters  they  were,  though,  every  one. 
While  black  smoke  began  to  emerge  from  the  galley 
funnel,  on  the  shimmering  tropic  air,  as  the  cook 
stuffed  oily  rags  and  oil-soaked  wood  under  all  the 

47 


48  CURSED 

coppers  that  his  range  would  hold,  divers  lines  of 
preparation  swiftly  developed. 

Already  some  were  casting  loose  the  lashings  of 
the  signal-gun  and  rigging  tackle  to  hoist  the  rust-red 
old  four-inch  piece  to  the  after-deck.  Others  fell  to 
work  with  Mr.  Crevay,  rigging  the  kedge-anchor  or 
lowering  away  the  long-boat.  Another  gang  leaped  to 
the  task  of,  getting  above-decks  all  the  rifles,  cutlasses, 
powder,  ball-shot  and  iron  junk,  the  axes  and  revol 
vers;  of  loading  everything,  even  of  laying  belaying- 
pins  handy  as  a  last  line  of  hand-to-hand  weapons. 

Briggs  supervised  all  details,  even  to  the  arming 
of  each  man  with  the  butchering-tool  he  claimed  to  be 
most  expert  with.  The  best  were  given  the  rifles; 
to  those  of  lesser  skill  was  left  the  cutlass  work.  A 
gun  crew  of  two  men  was  picked  to  serve  the  cannon 
with  Mr.  Crevay.  Three  were  detailed  to  help  the 
cook  carry  boiling  water. 

"  Mr.  Bevans  will  stand  over  the  natives  at  the  cap 
stan,"  directed  Briggs.  "  And  you,  doctor,  will  act 
in  your  medical  capacity  when  we  get  into  action. 
If  hard-driven,  you  can  be  useful  with  the  kris,  eh? 
Quite  in  your  line,  sir;  quite  in  your  line." 

Briggs  smiled  expansively.  All  his  evil  humors 
had  departed.  The  foretaste  of  battle  had  shaken  him 
clean  out  of  his  black  moods.  His  genius  for  or 
ganizing,  for  leading  men,  seemed  to  have  expanded 
him  to  heroic  proportions.  In  his  deep,  black  eyes, 
the  poise  of  his  head,  the  hard,  glad  expression  of  his 
full-blooded,  black-bearded  face,  one  saw  eager  virility 
that  ran  with  joy  to  meet  the  test  of  strength,  and  that 
exulted  in  a  day's  work  of  blood. 

A  heroic  figure  he,  indeed — thewed  like  a  bull; 
with  sunlight  on  face  and  open,  corded  neck;  deep- 
chested,  coatless  now,  the  sleeves  of  his  pongee  shirt 
rolled  up  to  herculean  elbows.  Some  vague  percep- 


BEFORE  THE  BATTLE  49 

tion  crossed  the  doctor's  mind  that  here,  indeed,  stood 
an  anomaly,  a  man  centuries  out  of  time  and  place, 
surely  a  throwback  to  some  distant  pirate  strain  of 
the  long-vanished  past. 

Imagination  could  twist  a  scarlet  kerchief  'round 
that  crisp-curling  hair,  knot  a  sash  about  the  captain's 
waist,  draw  high  boots  up  to  his  powerful  knees. 
Imagination  could  transport  him  to  the  coasts  of  Mex 
ico  long,  long  ago ;  imagination  could  run  the  Jolly 
Roger  to  the  masthead  —  and  there,  in  Captain  Briggs, 
merchant-ship  master  of  the  year  1868,  once  more 
find  kith  and  kin  of  Blackbeard,  Kidd,  Morgan,  Eng 
land,  and  all  others  of  the  company  of  gentlemen 
rovers  in  roistering  days. 

Something  of  this  the  doctor  seemed  to  understand. 
Yet,  as  he  turned  his  glance  a  moment  to  the  line  of 
warcraft  now  more  plainly  visible  across  the  shim 
mering  nacre  of  the  strait,  he  said,  raising  his  voice 
a  trifle  by  reason  of  the  various  shouts,  cries  and  di 
verse  noises  blending  confusedly,  and  now  quite  oblit 
erating  all  sounds  from  the  war  fleet : 

"  You  know  what  those  canoes  are  coming  after, 
of  course." 

'The  girl!     What  of  it?" 

"  And  you  know,  sir,  that  old  Dengan  Jouga  is 
bound  to  be  aboard.  There'll  be  a  medicine  man 
or  two,  as  well." 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  driving  at  ?  "  demanded 
Briggs. 

"  That's  a  formidable  combination,  sir,"  continued 
the  doctor.  "  We've  got  twenty  Malays  on  board 
that  will  face  hell-fire  itself  rather  than  see  any  harm 
befall  a  native  pawang  or  a  witch-woman.  We'll 
never  be  able  to  hold  them  to  any  work.  Each  of 
them  believes  he  can  reach  paradise  by  slaughtering 
a  white  man.  In  addition,  he  can  avenge  harm  done 


50  CURSED 

to  the  old  woman  and  the  girl.  Under  those  circum 
stances  — " 

"  By  God,  sir,  if  I  didn't  need  you,  sir  — " 

"  Under  those  circumstances,  my  original  sugges 
tion  of  holding  them  all  under  hatches,  as  hostages, 
has  much  to  recommend  it,  if  we  come  to  a  fight.  But 
need  we  come  to  a  fight  ?  Need  we,  sir  ?  " 

"  How  the  devil  can  we  sheer  off  from  it?  " 

"  By  giving  up  the  girl,  sir.  Put  her  in  one  of  the 
small  boats  with  a  few  trade-dollars  and  trinkets  for 
her  dowry  —  which  will  effectually  lustrate  the  girl, 
according  to  these  people's  ideas  —  and  give  her  a 
pair  of  oars.  She'll  take  care  of  herself  all  right. 
The  war-fleet  will  turn  around  and  go  back,  which  will 
be  very  much  better,  sir,  than  slaughter.  We've  al 
ready  lost  two  men,  and  — " 

"  And  you're  white-livered  enough  to  stand  there 
and  advise  taking  no  revenge  for  them  ?  "  interrupted 
Briggs,  his  voice  gusty  with  sudden  passion. 

Briggs  struck  the  rail  with  the  flat  of  his  palm,  a 
blow  that  cracked  like  a  pistol-shot;  while  the  doctor, 
wholly  unhorsed  by  this  tilt  from  so  unexpected  an 
angle,  could  only  stare. 

"  By  the  Judas  priest,  sir !  "  cried  Briggs  furiously. 
"  That's  enough  to  make  a  man  want  to  cut  you  down 
where  you  stand,  sir,  you  hear  me?  And  if  that  yel 
low-bellied  cowardice  wasn't  enough,  you  ask  me  to 
give  up  the  girl  —  the  girl  that's  cost  me  two  men 
already  —  the  girl  that  may  yet  cost  me  my  ship  and 
my  own  life!  Well,  by  the  Judas  priest!" 

"  Don't  risk  your  life  and  the  ship  for  a  native 
wench !  "  cut  in  the  doctor  with  a  rush  of  indignation. 
"  There  are  wenches  by  the  score,  by  the  hundred,  all 
up  and  down  the  Straits.  You  can  buy  a  dozen,  for 
a  handful  of  coin.  Wenches  by  the  thousands  —  but 
only  one  Silver  Fleece,  sir !  " 


BEFORE  THE  BATTLE  51 

"Devilish  lot  you  care  about  the  Fleece!"  snarled 
Briggs.  "  Or  about  anything  but  your  own  cowardly 
neck !  " 

"  Captain  Briggs,  don't  forget  yourself !  " 

"  Hell's  bells !  They  shan't  have  that  girl.  Witch- 
women,  medicine  men  or  all  the  devils  of  the  Pit 
shan't  take  her  back.  She's  mine,  I  tell  you,  and 
before  I'll  let  her  go  I'll  throw  her  to  the  sharks  my 
self.  Sharks  enough,  and  plenty  —  there's  one  now," 
he  added,  jerking  his  hand  at  a  slow-moving,  black 
triangle  that  was  cutting  a  furrow  off  to  starboard. 
"  So  I  want  to  hear  no  more  from  you  about  the  girl, 
and  you  can  lay  to  that!  " 

He  turned  on  his  heel  and  strode  aft,  growling  in 
his  beard.  The  doctor,  peering  after  him  with 
smoldering  eyes,  felt  his  finger  tighten  on  the  trigger. 
One  shot  might  do  the  business.  It  would  mean  death, 
of  course,  for  himself.  The  courts  would  take  their 
full  penalty,  all  in  due  time ;  but  it  would  save  the  ship 
and  many  white  men's  lives. 

Nevertheless,  the  doctor  did  not  raise  his  weapon. 
Discipline  still  held;  the  dominance  of  that  black- 
bearded  Hercules  still  viseed  all  opposition  into  impo 
tence.  With  no  more  than  a  curse,  the  doctor  turned 
back  to  his  guard  duty. 

"  Are  you  man  or  are  you  devil?  "  muttered  Filhiol. 
"  Good  God,  what  are  you?  " 

Already  the  defense  of  the  Silver  Fleece  was  nearly 
complete;  and  in  the  long-boat  the  kedge-anchor  was 
being  rowed  away  by  four  men  under  command  of 
Mr.  Crevay.  The  war-fleet  had  drawn  much  nearer, 
in  a  rough  crescent  to  northwestward,  its  sails  taut. 
Flashing  water-jewels,  swirled  up  from  paddles,  had 
become  visible,  under  the  now  unclouded  splendor 
of  the  sun.  More  and  more  distinctly  the  chanting 
and  war-drums  drifted  in. 


52  CURSED 

The  off-shore  breeze  was  urging  the  armada  for 
ward;  the  dip  and  swing  of  all  those  scores  of  paddles 
gave  a  sense  of  unrelenting  power.  But  Briggs,  hard, 
eager,  seemed  only  welcoming  battle  as  he  stood  cal 
culating  time  and  distance,  armament  and  disposal 
of  his  forces,  or,  with  an  eye  aloft  at  the  clewed-up 
canvas,  figured  the  tactics  of  kedging-off,  of  making 
sail  if  possible,  and  showing  Batu  Kawan's  forces  a 
clean  pair  of  heels. 

"Look  lively  with  that  anchor!"  he  shouted  out 
across  the  sparkling  waters.  "  Drop  her  in  good  holdin' 
ground,  and  lead  that  line  aboard.  The  sooner  we 
get  our  Malays  sweatin'  on  the  capstan,  the  better !  " 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  drifted  back  the  voice  of  Crevay. 
And  presently  the  splash  of  the  anchor  as  the  boat- 
crew  tugged  it  over  the  stern,  flung  cascades  of  foam 
into  the  heat-quivering  air. 

The  boat  surged  back  bravely;  the  line  was  bent  to 
the  capstan,  and  Briggs  ordered  the  Malays  to  the 
bars.  Sullen  they  came,  shuffling,  grumbling  strange 
words  —  lean,  brown  and  yellow  men  in  ragged  cotton 
shirts  and  no  shirts  at  all  —  as  murderous  a  pack  as 
ever  padded  in  sandals  or  bare  feet  along  white  decks. 

Among  them  slouched  Mahmud  Baba,  who,  like  all 
the  rest,  shot  a  comprehending  glance  at  the  on-draw 
ing  fleet.  Up  the  forward  companion-ladder  they 
swarmed,  and  aft  to  the  capstan,  with  Briggs,  the  doc 
tor  and  Wansley  all  three  on  a  hair-trigger  to  let 
sunlight  through  the  first  who  should  so  much  as  raise 
a  hand  of  rebellion.  And  so  they  manned  the  capstan- 
bars,  and  so  they  fell  a-heaving  at  the  kedge-line, 
treading  with  slow,  toilsome  feet  'round  and  'round  on 
the  hot  planks,  where  —  young  as  the  morning  was  — 
the  pitch  had  already  softened. 

"Come   here,   you   surkabutch!"   commanded   the 


BEFORE  THE  BATTLE  53 

captain,  summoning  Mahmud  Baba.  "  Juldi, 
idherao! " 

The  Malay  came,  gray  with  anger  —  for  Briggs 
had,  in  hearing  of  all  his  fellows,  called  him  "  son  of 
a  pig,"  and  a  Mohammedan  will  kill  you  for  calling 
him  that,  if  he  can.  Nevertheless,  Mahmud  salaamed. 
Not  now  could  he  kill.  Later,  surely.  He  could 
afford  to  wait.  The  Frank  must  not  call  him  son 
of  a  pig,  and  still  live.  Might  not  Allah  even  now  be 
preparing  vengeance,  in  that  war-fleet?  Mahmud 
salaamed  again,  and  waited  with  half-closed  eyes. 

At  the  capstan  the  thud-thud-thud  of  twoscore 
trampling  feet  was  already  mingling  with  a  croon  of 
song,  that  soon  would  rise  and  strengthen,  if  not 
summarily  suppressed,  and  drift  out  to  meet  the  war- 
chant  of  the  warrior  blood-kin  steadily  approaching. 

Click-click-click !  the  pawl  and  ratchet  punctuated  the 
rhythm  of  feet  and  song,  as  the  hawser  began  to  rise, 
dripping,  from  the  sea.  Briggs  drew  his  revolver 
from  his  belt,  and  ground  the  muzzle  fair  against 
Mahmud's  teeth. 

"  You  tell  those  other  surkabutchas,"  said  he  with 
cold  menace,  "  that  I'll  have  no  singing.  I'll  have  no 
noise  to  cover  up  your  plotting  and  planning  together. 
You'll  all  work  in  silence  or  you'll  all  be  dead.  Un 
derstand  me?  " 

"  Yas,  sar." 

"  And  you'll  hang  to  the  capstan-bars  till  we're 
free,  no  matter  what  happens.  The  first  man  that 
quits,  goes  to  glory  on  the  jump.  Savvy?" 

"  Yas,  sar."  Mahmud's  voice  was  low,  submissive; 
but  through  the  drooping  lids  a  gleam  shone  forth 
that  never  came  from  sunlight  or  from  sea. 

"  All  right,"  growled  Briggs,  giving  the  revolver 
an  extra  shove.  "  Get  to  work!  And  if  those  other 


54  CURSED 

sons  of  pigs  in  the  canoes  board  us,  we  white  men 
will  shoot  down  every  last  one  o'  you  here.  We'll 
take  no  chances  of  being  knifed  in  the  back.  You'll 
all  have  gone  to  damnation  before  one  o'  them  sets 
foot  on  my  decks.  You  lay  to  that,  my  Mud  Baby! 
Now,  tell  'em  all  I've  told  you,  and  get  it  straight! 
fool" 

Briggs  struck  Mahmud  a  head-cracking  blow  with 
the  revolver  just  above  the  ear  and  sent  him  staggering 
back  to  the  capstan.  The  song  died,  as  Mahmud 
gulped  out  words  that  tumbled  over  each  other  with 
staccato  vehemence. 

"  Get  in  there  at  the  bars !  "  shouted  Briggs.  "  Get 
to  work,  you,  before  I  split  you !  " 

Mahmud  swung  to  place,  and  bent  his  back  to  labor, 
as  his  thin  chest  and  skinny  hands  pushed  at  the  bar 
beside  his  fellows. 

And  steadily  the  war-fleet  drew  in  toward  its  prey. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PARLEY  AND  DEATH 

In  silence  now  the  capstan  turned.  No  Malays 
hummed  or  spoke.  Only  the  grunting  of  their  breath, 
oppressed  by  toil  and  the  thrust  of  the  bars,  kept 
rough  time  with  the  slither  of  feet,  the  ratchet-click, 
the  groaning  creak  of  the  cable  straining  through  the 
chocks. 

"  Dig  your  toe-nails  in,  you  black  swine !  "  shouted 
Briggs.  "  The  first  one  that  — 

"  Captain  Briggs,"  the  doctor  interrupted,  taking 
him  by  the  arm,  "  I  think  the  enemy's  trying  to  commu 
nicate  with  us.  See  there?" 

He  pointed  where  the  fleet  had  now  ranged  up  to 
•within  about  two  miles.  The  mats  of  the  proa  and  of 
the  other  sailing-canoes  had  crumpled  down,  the  oars 
and  paddles  ceased  their  motion.  The  war-party 
seemed  resting  for  deliberation.  Only  one  boat  was 
moving,  a  long  canoe  with  an  outrigger;  and  from 
this  something  white  was  slowly  waving. 

"  Parley  be  damned !  "  cried  Briggs.  "  The  only 
parley  I'll  have  with  that  pack  of  lousy  beggars  will 
be  hot  shot !  " 

"  That  canoe  coming  forward  there,  with  the  white 
flag  up,"  Filhiol  insisted,  "  means  they  want  to  pow 
wow.  It's  quite  likely  a  few  dollars  may  settle  the 
whole  matter;  or  perhaps  a  little  surplus  hardware. 
Surely  you'd  rather  part  with  something  than  risk 
losing  your  ship,  sir?" 

"  I'll  part  with  nothin',  and  I'll  save  my  ship  into 

55 


56  CURSED 

the  bargain,"  growled  the  captain.  "  There'll  be  no 
tribute  paid,  doctor.  Good  God !  White  men  knuck- 
lin'  under,  to  niggers?  Never,  sir  —  never!  " 

Savagely  he  spoke,  but  Filhiol  detected  intonations 
that  rang  not  quite  true.  Again  he  urged :  "  A  bar 
gain's  a  bargain,  black  or  white.  Captain  Light  was 
as  good  a  man  as  ever  sailed  the  Straits,  and  he  wasn't 
above  diplomacy.  He  understood  how  to  handle  these 
people.  Wanted  a  landing-place  cleared,  you  remem 
ber.  Couldn't  hire  a  man-jack  to  work  for  him,  so 
he  loaded  his  brass  cannon  with  trade-dollars  and 
shot  them  into  the  jungle.  The  Malays  cleared  five 
acres,  hunting  for  those  dollars.  These  people  can  be 
handled,  if  you  know  how." 

The  captain,  his  heavy  brows  furrowed  with  a  black 
frown,  still  peered  at  the  on-drawing  canoe.  Silence 
came  among  all  the  white  men  at  their  fighting-stations 
or  grouped  near  the  captain. 

"  That's  enough !  "  burst  out  Briggs.  "  Silence,  sir ! 
Mr.  Gascar,  fetch  my  glass !  " 

The  doctor,  very  wise,  held  his  tongue.  Already  he 
knew  he  was  by  way  of  winning  his  contention.  Gas- 
car  brought  the  telescope  from  beside  the  after-com 
panion  housing,  where  Briggs  had  laid  it.  The  cap 
tain  thrust  his  revolver  into  his  belt.  In  silence  he 
studied  the  approaching  canoe.  Then  he  exclaimed : 

"  This  is  damned  strange !     Dr.  Filhiol !  " 

"Well,  sir?" 

"  Take  a  look,  and  tell  me  what  you  see." 

He  passed  the  telescope  to  the  doctor,  who  with 
keenest  attention  observed  the  boat,  then  said: 

"  White  men  on  board  that  canoe.     Two  of  them." 

"  That's  what  /  thought,  doctor.  Must  be  Mr. 
Scurlock  and  the  boy,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  think  there's  still  time  to  trade  the 
girl  for  them,"  the  doctor  eagerly  exclaimed.  A  mo- 


PARLEY  AND  DEATH  57 

ment  Briggs  seemed  pondering,  while  at  the  capstan 
the  driven  Malays  —  now  reeking  in  a  bath  of  sweat 
—  still  trod  their  grunting  round. 

"  Captain,  I  beg  of  you  — "  the  doctor  began. 
Briggs  raised  a  hand  for  silence. 

"  Don't  waste  your  breath,  sir,  till  we  know  what's 
what!"  he  commanded.  "I'll  parley,  at  any  rate. 
We  may  be  able  to  get  that  party  on  board  here.  If 
we  can,  the  rest  will  be  easy.  And  I'm  as  anxious 
to  lay  hands  on  those  damned  deserters  o'  mine  as 
I  was  ever  anxious  for  anything  in  my  life.  Stand  to 
your  arms,  men !  Mr.  Bevans,  be  ready  with  that  sig 
nal-gun  to  blow  'em  out  of  the  water  if  they  start 
trouble.  Mr.  Gascar,  fetch  my  speakin'-trumpet 
from  the  cabin.  Bring  up  a  sheet,  too,  from  Scur- 
lock's  berth.  That's  the  handiest  flag  o'  truce  we've 
got.  Look  alive  now !  " 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  answered  Gascar,  and  departed  on 
his  errand. 

Silence  fell,  save  for  the  toiling  Malays,  whose 
labors  still  were  fruitless  to  do  aught  save  slowly  drag 
the  kedge  through  the  gleaming  sand  of  the  sea-bot 
tom.  Mr.  Wansley  muttered  something  to  himself; 
the  doctor  fell  nervously  to  pacing  up  and  down;  the 
others  looked  to  their  weapons. 

From  the  fleet  now  drifted  no  sound  of  drums  or 
chanting.  In  stillness  lay  the  war-craft;  in  stillness 
the  single  canoe  remained  on  watch,  with  only  that 
tiny  flicker  of  white  to  show  its  purpose.  A  kind  of 
ominous  hush  brooded  over  sea  and  sky ;  but  ever  the 
tramp  of  feet  at  the  capstan,  and  the  panting  breath 
of  toil  there  rose  on  the  superheated  air. 

Gascar  returned,  handed  the  trumpet  to  Briggs,  and 
from  the  rail  waved  the  sheet.  After  a  minute  the 
canoe  once  more  advanced,  with  flashing  paddles. 
'Steadily  the  gun-crew  kept  it  covered,  ready  at  a 


58  CURSED 

word  to  shatter  it.  Along  the  rail  the  riflemen 
crouched.  And  still  the  little  white  flutter  spoke  of 
peace,  if  peace  the  captain  could  be  persuaded  into 
buying. 

The  glass  now  determined  beyond  question  that  Mr. 
Scurlock  and  the  boy  were  on  board.  Briggs  also 
made  out  old  Dengan  Jouga,  the  witch-woman,  mother 
of  the  girl.  His  jaw  clamped  hard  as  he  waited.  He 
let  the  war-craft  draw  up  to  within  a  quarter-mile, 
then  bade  Gascar  cease  displaying  the  sheet,  and 
through  the  speaking-trumpet  shouted : 

"That'll  do  now,  Scurlock!  Nigh  enough  1 
What's  wanted?" 

The  paddlers  ceased  their  work.  The  canoe  drifted 
idly.  Silence  followed.  Then  a  figure  stood  up  —  a 
figure  now  plainly  recognizable  in  that  bright  glow 
as  Mr.  Scurlock.  Faintly  drifted  in  the  voice  of  the 
former  mate: 

"Captain  Briggs!  For  God's  sake,  listen  to  me! 
Let  me  come  closer  —  let  me  talk  with  you !  " 

"  You're  close  enough  now,  you  damned  mutineer !  " 
retorted  Briggs.  "What  d'  you  want?  Spit  it  out, 
and  be  quick  about  it !  " 

Another  silence,  while  the  sound  traveled  to  the 
canoe  and  while  the  answer  came : 

"  I've  got  the  boy  with  me.  We're  prisoners.  If 
you  don't  give  up  that  girl,  an'  pay  somethin'  for  her, 
they're  goin'  to  kill  us  both.  They're  goin'  to  cut  our 
heads  off,  cap'n,  and  give  'em  to  the  witch-woman,  to 
hang  outside  her  hut !  " 

"And  a  devilish  good  place  for  'em,  too!"  roared 
Briggs,  unmindful  of  surly  looks  and  muttered  words 
revealing  some  disintegration  of  the  discipline  at  first 
so  splendidly  inspired.  "  I'll  have  no  dealin's  with 
you  on  such  terms.  Get  back  now  —  back,  afore  I 
sink  you,  where  you  lie !  " 


PARLEY  AND  DEATH  59 

"  See  here,  captain !  "  burst  out  Filhiol,  his  face 
white  with  a  flame  of  passion.  "  I'm  no  mutineer, 
and  I'm  not  refusing  duty,  but  by  God  — " 

"Silence,  sir!"  shouted  Briggs.  "I've  got  irons 
aboard  for  any  man  as  sets  himself  against  me!" 

"  Irons  or  no  irons,  I  can't  keep  silent,"  the  doctor 
persisted,  while  here  and  there  a  growl,  a  curse,  should 
have  told  Briggs  which  way  the  spate  of  things  had 
begun  to  flow.  "  That  man,  there,  and  that  helpless 
boy  — " 

He  choked,  gulped,  stammered  in  vain  for  words. 

"  They'll  hang  our  heads  up,  and  they'll  burn  the 
Silver  Fleece  and  bootcher  all  hands,"  drifted  in  the 
far,  slow  cry  of  Mr.  Scurlock.  "  They  got  three 
hundred  men  an'  firearms,  an'  a  brass  cannon.  An* 
if  this  party  is  beat,  more  will  be  raised.  This  is  your 
last  chance !  For  the  girl  an'  a  hundred  trade-dollars 
they'll  all  quit  and  go  home !  " 

"  To  hell  with  'em !  "  shouted  Briggs  at  the  rail, 
his  face  swollen  with  hate  and  rage.  '  To  hell  with 
you,  too!  There'll  be  no  such  bargain  struck  so  long 
as  I  got  a  deck  to  tread  on,  or  a  shot  in  my  lockers! 
If  they  want  the  yellow  she-dog,  let  'em  come  an'  take 
her !  Now,  stand  off,  there,  afore  I  blow  you  to  Davy 
Jones!" 

"It's  murder!"  flared  the  doctor.  "You  men, 
here  —  officers  of  this  ship  —  I  call  on  you  to  wit 
ness  this  cold-blooded  murder.  Murder  of  a  good 
man,  and  a  harmless  boy!  By  God,  if  you  stand  there 
and  let  him  kill  those  two  — " 

Briggs  flung  up  his  revolver  and  covered  the  doctor 
with  an  aim  the  steadiness  of  which  proved  how  un 
shaken  was  his  nerve. 

"  Murder  if  you  like,"  smiled  he  with  cold  malice, 
his  white  teeth  glinting.  "  An'  there'll  be  another  one 
right  here,  if  you  don't  put  a  stopper  on  that  mutinous 


60  CURSED 

jaw  of  yours  and  get  back  to  your  post.  That's  my 
orders,  and  if  you  don't  obey  on  shipboard,  it's  mutiny. 
Mutiny,  sawbones,  an'  I  can  shoot  you  down,  an'  go 
free.  I'm  to  windward  o'  the  law.  Now,  get  back 
to  the  capstan,  afore  I  let  daylight  through  you !  " 

Outplayed  by  tactics  that  put  a  sudden  end  to  any 
opposition,  the  doctor  ceded.  The  steady  "  O  "  of 
the  revolver-muzzle  paralyzed  his  tongue  and  numbed 
his  arm.  Had  he  felt  that  by  a  sudden  shot  he  could 
have  had  even  a  reasonable  chance  of  downing  the 
captain,  had  he  possessed  any  confidence  of  backing 
from  enough  of  the  others  to  have  made  mutiny  a 
success,  he  would  have  risked  his  life  —  yes,  gladly 
lost  it  —  by  coming  ^to  swift  grips  with  the  brute. 
But  Filhiol  knew  the  balance  of  power  still  lay  against 
him.  The  majority,  he  sensed,  still  stood  against  him. 
Sullenly  the  doctor  once  more  lagged  aft. 

From  the  canoe  echoed  voices,  ever  more  loud  and 
more  excited.  In  the  bow,  Scurlock  gesticulated. 
His  supplications  were  audible,  mingled  with  shouts 
and  cries  from  the  Malays.  Added  thereto  were  high- 
pitched  screams  from  the  boy  —  wild,  shrill,  nerve- 
breaking  screams,  like  those  of  a  wounded  animal 
in  terror. 

"  Oh,  God,  this  is  horrible !  "  groaned  the  doctor, 
white  as  paper.  His  teeth  sank  into  his  bleeding  lip. 
He  raised  his  revolver  to  send  a  bullet  through  the 
captain;  but  Crevay,  "with  one  swift  blow,  knocked  the 
weapon  jangling  to  the  deck,  and  dealt  Filhiol  a  blow 
that  sent  him  reeling. 

"  Payne,  and  you,  Deming,  here !  "  commanded  he, 
summoning  a  couple  of  foremast  hands.  They  came 
to  him.  "  Lock  this  man  in  his  cabin.  He's  got  a 
touch  o'  sun.  Look  alive,  now !  " 

Together  they  laid  hands  on  Filhiol,  hustled  him 
down  the  after-companion,  flung  him  into  his  cabin 


PARLEY  AND  DEATH  61 

and  locked  the  door.  Crevay,  guarding  the  Malays  at 
the  capstan,  muttered: 

"  Saved  the  idiot's  life,  anyhow.  Good!  doctor; 
but  as  a  man,  what  a  damned,  thundering  fool !  " 

Unmindful  of  this  side-play  Briggs  was  watching 
the  canoe.  His  face  had  become  that  of  a  devil  glad 
of  vengeance  on  two  hated  souls.  He  laughed  again 
at  Scurlock's  up-flung  arms,  at  his  frantic  shout : 

"For  the  love  o'  God,  captain,  save  us!  If  you 
don't  give  up  that  girl,  they're  goin'  to  kill  us  right 
away !  You  got  to  act  quick,  now,  to  save  us !  " 

"  Save  yourselves,  you  renegades !  "  shouted  Briggs, 
swollen  with  rage  and  hate.  His  laugh  chilled  the 
blood.  "  You  said  you'd  chance  it  with  the  Malays 
afore  you  would  with  me.  Well,  take  it,  now,  and  to 
hell  with  you !  " 

"  For  God's  sake,  captain  — " 

Scurlock's  last,  wild  appeal  was  suddenly  strangled 
into  silence.  Another  scream  from  the  boy  echoed 
over  the  water.  The  watchers  got  sight  of  a  small 
figure  that  waved  imploring  arms.  All  at  once  this 
figure  vanished,  pulled  down,  with  Scurlock,  by  shout 
ing  Malays. 

The  exact  manner  of  the  death  of  the  two  could 
not  be  told.  All  that  the  clipper's  men  could  see  was 
a  sudden,  confused  struggle,  that  ended  almost  before 
it  had  begun.  A  few  shouts  drifted  out  over  the  clear 
waters.  Then  another  long,  rising  shriek  in  the  boy's 
treble,  shuddered  across  the  vacancy  of  sea  and  sky  — 
a  shriek  that  ended  with  sickening  suddenness. 

Some  of  the  white  men  cursed  audibly.  Some  faces 
went  drawn  and  gray.  A  flurry  of  chatter  broke  out 
at  the  toiling  capstan  —  not  even  Mr.  Crevay's  furious 
oaths  and  threats  could  immediately  suppress  it. 

Briggs  only  laughed,  horribly,  his  teeth  glinting  as 
he  leaned  on  the  rail  and  watched. 


62  CURSED 

For  a  moment  the  canoe  rocked  in  spite  of  its 
steadying  outrigger,  with  the  violence  of  the  activities 
aboard  it.  Then  up  rose  two  long  spears ;  spears  topped 
with  grisly,  rounded  objects.  A  rising  chorus  of  yells, 
yells  of  rage,  hate,  defiance,  spread  abroad,  echoed  by 
louder  shouts  from  the  wide  crescent  of  the  fleet.  And 
once  again  the  drums  began  to  pulse. 

From  the  canoe,  two  formless  things  were  thrown. 
Here,  there,  a  shark-fin  turned  toward  the  place  —  a 
.swirl  of  water. 

Silence  fell  aboard  the  clipper.  In  that  silence  a 
slight  grating  sound,  below,  told  Briggs  the  kedging 
liad  begun  to  show  results.  A  glad  sound,  indeed, 
that  grinding  of  the  keel! 

"  By  God,  men !  "  he  shouted,  turning.  "  The  fore 
foot's  comin'  free.  Dig  in,  you  swine!  Men,  when 
she  clears,  we'll  box  her  off  with  the  fores'l  —  we'll 
beat  'em  yet !  " 

Once  more  allegiance  knit  itself  to  Briggs.  Despite 
that  double  murder  (as  surely  done  by  him  as  if  his 
own  hand  had  wielded  the  kris  that  had  beheaded  Mr. 
Scurlock  and  the  boy),  the  drums  and  shoutings  of  the 
war-fleet,  added  to  this  new  hope  of  getting  clear  of 
Ulu  Salama,  fired  every  white  man's  heart  with  sudden 
hope. 

The  growl  that  had  begun  to  rise  against  Briggs 
died  away. 

"  Mr.  Crevay,"  he  commanded,  striding  aft,  "  live 
lier  there  with  those  pigs!  They're  not  doin'  half 
a  trick  o'  work !  "  Angrily  he  gestured  at  the  sweat- 
bathed,  panting  men.  "  You,  Lumbard,  fetch  me  up 
a  fathom  o'  rope.  I'll  give  'em  a  taste  o'  medicine 
that  '11  make  'em  dig !  And  you,  Mr.  Bevans  —  how's 
the  gun?  All  loaded  with  junk?" 

"All  ready,  sir!" 

Briggs  turned  to  it     Out  over  the  water  he  squinted, 


PARLEY  AND  DEATH  '63 

laying  careful  aim  at  the  canoe  where  Scurlock  and 
the  boy  had  died. 

The  canoe  had  already  begun  retreating  from  the 
place  now  marked  by  a  worrying  swirl  of  waters  where 
the  gathering  sharks  held  revel.  Back  towards  the 
main  fleet  it  was  circling  as  the  paddlemen  —  their 
naked,  brown  bodies  gleaming  with  sunlight  on  the  oil 
that  would  make  them  slippery  as  eels  in  case  of  close 
fighting  —  bent  to  their  labor. 

On  the  proa  and  the  other  sailing-canoes  the  mat 
sails  had  already  been  hauled  up  again.  The  proa 
was  slowly  lagging  forward;  and  with  it  the  battle- 
line,  wide-flung. 

Brig'gs  once  more  assured  his  aim.  He  seized  the 
lanyard,  stepped  back,  and  with  a  shout  of :  "  Take 
this,  you  black  scum !  "  jerked  the  cord. 

The  rusty  old  four-inch  leaped  against  its  lashings 
as  it  vomited  half  a  bushel  of  heavy  nuts,  bolts,  brass 
and  iron  junk  in  a  roaring  burst  of  smoke  and  flame. 

Fortune  favored.  The  canoe  buckled,  jumped  half 
out  of  the  water,  and,  broken  fair  in  two,  dissolved 
in  a  scattering  flurry  of  debris.  Screams  echoed 
with  horrible  yells  from  the  on-drawing  fleet.  Dark, 
moving  things,  the  heads  of  swimmers  already  doomed 
by  the  fast-gathering  sharks,  jostled  floating  things 
that  but  a  second  before  had  been  living  men.  The 
whole  region  near  the  canoe  became  a  white-foaming 
thrash  of  struggle  and  of  death. 

"Come  on,  all  o'  .you!"  howled  Briggs  with  the 
laughter  of  a  blood-crazed  devil.  "  We're  ready,  you 
siirkabutchas!  Ready  for  you  all!" 

With  an  animal-like  scream  of  rage,  a  Malay  sprang 
from  the  capstan-bar  where  he  had  been  sweating. 
On  Crevay  he  flung  himself.  A  blade,  snatched  from 
the  Malay's  breech-clout,  flicked  high-lights  as  it 
plunged  into  Crevay's  neck. 


64  CURSED 

Whirled  by  a  dozen  warning  yells,  the  captain  spun. 
He  caught  sight  of  Crevay,  already  crumpling  down 
on  the  hot  deck:  saw  the  reddened  blade,  the  black- 
toothed  grin  of  hate,  the  on-rush  of  the  amok  Malay. 

Up  flung  his  revolver.  But  already  the  leaping 
figure  was  upon  him. 


CHAPTER  IX 

ONSET  OF  BATTLE 

The  shot  that  Wansley  fired,  a  chance  shot  hardly 
aimed  at  all,  must  have  been  guided  by  the  finger  of  the 
captain's  guardian  genius.  It  crumpled  the  Malay, 
with  strangely  sprawling  legs.  Kill  him  it  did  not. 
But  the  bullet  through  his  lower  vertebrae  left  only 
his  upper  half  alive. 

With  a  grunt  he  crumpled  to  the  hot  deck,  knife 
still  clutched  in  skinny  fist.  Shouts  echoed.  Briggs 
stood  aghast,  with  even  his  steel  nerve  jangling.  The 
quivering  Malay  was  a  half-dead  thing  that  still  lived. 
He  writhed  with  contorted  face,  dragging  himself  to 
ward  Briggs.  The  knife-blade  clicked  on  the  planking, 
like  the  clicking  of  his  teeth  that  showed  black  through 
slavering  lips. 

"Allah!  il  Allah!"  he  gulped,  heaving  himself  up 
on  one  hand,  slashing  with  the  other. 

Why  do  men,  in  a  crisis,  so  often  do  stupid,  unac 
countable  things  ?  Why  did  Briggs  kick  at  him,  with 
a  roaring  oath,  instead  of  shooting?  Briggs  felt  the 
bite  of  steel  in  his  leg.  That  broke  the  numbing  spell 
of  unreason.  The  captain's  pistol,  at  point-blank 
range,  shattered  the  yellow  man's  skull.  Blood, 
smeared  with  an  ooze  of  brain,  colored  the  stewing 
deck. 

"Allah!  il  Al—l" 

The  cry  ended  in  a  choking  gurgle  on  lips  that  drew 
into  a  horrible  grin.  And  now  completely  dead  even 
beyond  the  utmost  lash  of  Islamic  fanaticism,  the 

65 


66  CURSED 

Malay  dropped  face  down.  This  time  the  captain's 
kick  landed  only  on  flesh  and  bone  past  any  power  of 
feeling. 

At  the  capstan-bars  it  was  touch-and-go.  Crevay 
was  down,  groaning,  his  hands  all  slippery  and  crimson 
with  the  blood  that  seeped  through  his  clutching  ringers. 
For  a  moment,  work  slacked  off.  Wansley  was  shout 
ing,  with  revolver  leveled,  his  voice  blaring  above  the 
cries,  oaths,  imprecations.  Things  came  to  the  ragged 
edge  of  a  rush,  but  white  men  ran  in  with  rifles  and 
cutlasses.  Briggs  flung  himself  aft,  trailing  blood. 

Crazed  with  rage  and  the  burn  of  that  wound,  he 
fired  thrice.  Malays  sagged  down,  plunged  screaming 
to  the  deck.  The  captain  would  have  emptied  his  re 
volver  into  the  pack,  but  Wansley  snatched  him  by 
the  arm. 

"  Hold  on !  "  he  shouted.  "  That's  enough  —  we 
need  'em,  sir !  " 

Prass,  belay  ing-pin  in  hand,  struck  to  right,  to  left. 
Yells  of  pain  mingled  with  the  tumult  that  drowned 
the  ragged,  ineffective  spatter  of  firing  from  the  war- 
fleet.  The  action  was  swift,  decisive.  In  half  a  min 
ute,  the  capstan  was  clicking  again,  faster  than  ever. 
Its  labor-power,  diminished  by  the  loss  of  three  men, 
was  more  than  compensated  by  the  fear  of  the  sur 
vivors. 

"  Overboard  with  the  swine !  "  shouted  Briggs. 
"  Overboard  with  'em,  to  the  sharks !  " 

"  This  here  one  ain't  done  for  yet,  sir,"  began 
Prass,  pointing.  "  He's  only  — " 

"  Overboard,  I  said !  "  roared  Brig'gs.  "  You'll  go, 
too,  by  God,  if  you  give  me  any  lip !  " 

As  men  laid  hands  on  the  Malays  to  drag  them  to 
the  rail,  Briggs  dropped  on  his  knees  beside  Crevay. 
He  pulled  away  the  man's  hands  from  the  gaping 
neck-wound,  whence  the  life  was  irretrievably  spurting. 


ONSET  OF  BATTLE  67 

"  Judas  priest !  "  he  stammered,  for  here  was  his 
right-hand  man  as  good  as  dead.  "  Doctor !  Where 
the  devil  is  Mr.  Filhiol  ?  " 

"  In  the  cabin,  sir,"  Prass  answered. 

"  Cabin !     Holy  Lord !     On  deck  with  him !  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  tell  him  to  bring  his  kit !  " 

Prass  had  already  dived  below.  The  doctor  was 
haled  up  again,  with  his  bag.  A  kind  of  hard  exul 
tation  blazed  in  the  captain's  face.  He  seemed  not 
to  hear  the  shouts  of  war,  the  spattering  fusillade  from 
the  canoes.  His  high-arched  chest  rose  and  fell,  pant- 
ingly.  His  hands,  reddened  with  the  blood  of  Crevay, 
dripped  horribly.  Filhiol,  hustled  on  deck,  stared  in 
amazement. 

"  A  job  for  you,  sir!  "  cried  Briggs.  "  Prove  your 
self!" 

Filhiol  leaned  over  Crevay.  But  he  made  no  move 
to  open  his  kit-bag.  One  look  had  told  him  the  truth. 

The  man,  already  unconscious,  had  grown  waxen. 
His  breathing  had  become  a  stertorous  hiccough.  The 
deck  beneath  him  was  terrible  to  look  upon. 

"  No  use,  sir,"  said  the  doctor  briefly.     "  He's  gone." 

"Do  something!"  blazed  the  captain.  "Some 
thing!" 

"  For  a  dead  man?  "  retorted  Filhiol.  As  he  spoke, 
even  the  hiccough  ceased. 

Briggs  stared  with  eyes  of  rage.  He  got  to  his 
feet,  hulking,  savage,  with  swaying  red  fists. 

"  They've  killed  my  best  man,"  he  snarled.  "  If 
we  didn't  need  the  dogs,  we'd  feed  'em  all  to  the  sharks, 
so  help  me !  " 

"  You're  wounded,  sir !  "  the  doctor  cried,  pointing 
at  the  blood-wet  slash  in  the  captain's  trouser-leg. 

"  Oh,  to  hell  with  that !  "  Briggs  retorted.  "  You, 
and  you,"  he  added,  jabbing  a  finger  at  two  sailors, 


68  CURSED 

"  carry  Mr.  Crevay  down  to  the  cabin  —  then  back 
to  your  rifles  at  the  rail !  " 

They  obeyed,  their  burden  sagging  limply.  Already 
the  dead  and  wounded  Malays  had  been  bundled  over 
the  rail.  The  fusillade  from  the  war-canoes  was 
strengthening,  and  the  shouts  had  risen  to  a  barbaric 
chorus.  The  patter  of  bullets  and  slugs  into  the  sea 
or  against  the  planking  of  the  Silver  Fleece  formed  a 
ragged  accompaniment  to  the  whine  of  missiles  through 
the  air.  A  few  holes  opened  in  the  clipper's  canvas. 
One  of  the  men  who  had  thrown  the  Malays  over 
board  cursed  suddenly  and  grabbed  his  left  elbow, 
shattered. 

"Take  cover!"  commanded  Briggs.  "Down, 
everybody,  along  the  rail!  Mr.  Wansley,  down  with 
you  and  your  men.  Get  down !  " 

Indifferent  to  all  peril  for  himself,  Briggs  turned 
toward  the  companion. 

"  Captain,"  the  doctor  began  again.  "  Your  boot's 
full  of  blood.  Let  me  bandage — " 

Briggs  flung  a  snarl  at  him  and  strode  to  the  com 
panion. 

"  Below,  there !  "  he  shouted. 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir!  "  rose  the  voice  of  one  of  the  fore 
mast  hands. 

"  Get  that  wench  up  here !  The  yellow  girl !  Bring 
her  up  —  an'  look  alive !  " 

"  Captain,"  the  doctor  insisted,  "  I've  got  to  do 
something  for  that  gash  in  your  leg.  Not  that  I 
love  you,  but  you're  the  only  man  that  can  save  us. 
Sit  down  here,  sir.  You'll  bleed  to  death  where  you 
stand!" 

Something  in  Filhiol's  tone,  something  in  a  certain 
giddiness  that  was  already  reaching  for  the  captain's 
heart  and  brain,  made  him  obey.  He  sat  down  shakily 
on  deck  beside  the  after-companion.  In  the  midst 


ONSET  OF  BATTLE  69 

of  all  that  turmoil,  all  underlaid  by  the  slow,  grinding 
scrape  of  the  keel  on  the  sand-bar,  the  physician  per 
formed  his  duty. 

With  scissors,  he  shore  away  the  cloth.  A  wicked 
slash,  five  or  six  inches  long,  stood  redly  revealed. 

"  Tss!  Tss! "  clucked  Filhiol.  "  Lucky  if  it's  not 
poisoned." 

"  Mr.  Gascar !  "  shouted  the  captain.  "  Go  below  !  " 
Briggs  jerked  a  thumb  downward  at  the  cabin,  whence 
sounds  of  a  struggle,  mingled  with  cries  and  animal- 
like  snarls,  had  begun  to  proceed.  "  Bring  up  the  jug 
o'  rum  you'll  find  in  my  locker.  Serve  it  out  to  all 
hands.  And,  look  you,  if  they  need  a  lift  with  the  girl, 
give  it;  but  don't  you  kill  that  wench.  I  need  her, 
alive!  Understand?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  Gascar  replied,  and  vanished  down  the 
companion.  He  reappeared  with  a  jug  and  a  tin  cup. 

"  They're  handlin'  her  all  right,  sir,"  he  reported. 
"  Have  a  drop,  sir?" 

"You're  damned  shoutin',  I  will!"  And  the  cap 
tain  reached  for  the  cup.  Gascar  poured  him  a  stiff 
drink.  He  gulped  it  and  took  another.  "  Now  deal 
it  out.  There'll  be  plenty  more  when  we've  sunk  the 
yellow  devils!  " 

He  got  to  his  feet,  scorning  further  care  from  Fil 
hiol,  and  stood  there  wild  and  disheveled,  with  one  leg 
of  his  trousers  cut  off  at  the  knee  and  with  his  half- 
tied  bandages  already  crimsoning. 

"  Rum  for  all  hands,  men !  "  he  shouted.  "  And 
better  than  rum  —  my  best  wine,  sherry,  champagne 
—  a  bottle  a  head  for  you,  when  this  shindy's  over !  " 

Cheers  rose  unevenly.  Gascar  started  on  his  round 
with  the  jug.  Even  the  wounded  men,  such  as  could 
still  raise  their  voices,  shouted  approval. 

"  Hold  your  fire,  men,"  the  captain  ordered.  "  Let 
'em  close  in  —  then  blow  'em  out  o'  the  water!  " 


CHAPTER  X 

KUALA  PAHANG 

The  doctor,  presently  finishing  with  Briggs,  turned 
his  attention  to  the  other  injured  ones.  At  the  top 
of  the  companion  now  stood  the  captain  with  wicked 
eyes,  as  up  the  ladder  emerged  the  two  seamen  with 
the  struggling,  clawing  tiger-cat  of  a  girl. 

The  cruel  beating  the  captain  had  given  her  the 
night  before  had  not  yet  crushed  her  spirit.  Neither 
had  the  sickness  of  the  liquor  he  had  forced  her  to 
drink.  Bruised,  spent,  broken  as  she  was,  the  spirit 
of  battle  still  dwelt  in  the  lithe  barbarian.  That  her 
sharp  nails  had  been  busy  to  good  effect  was  proved 
by  the  long,  deep  gashes  on  the  faces  and  necks  of 
both  seamen.  One  had  been  bitten  on  the  forearm. 
For  all  their  strength,  they  proved  hardly  more  than  a 
match  for  her  up  the  narrow,  steep  companion.  Their 
blasphemies  mingled  with  the  girl's  animal-like  cries. 
Loudly  roared  the  booming  bass  of  the  captain: 

"Up  with  the  she-dog!  I'll  teach  her  something 
—  teach  'em  all  something,  by  the  Judas  priest!  Up 
with  her!  " 

They  dragged  her  out  on  deck,  up  into  all  that 
shouting  and  firing,  that  turmoil  and  labor  and  blood. 
And  as  they  brought  her  up  a  plume  of  smoke  jetted 
from  the  bows  of  the  proa.  The  morning  air  sparkled 
with  the  fire-flash  of  that  ancient  brass  cannon.  With 
a  crashing  shower  of  splinters,  a  section  of  the  rail 
burst  inward.  Men  sprawled,  howling.  But  a  greater 
tragedy  —  in  the  eyes  of  these  sailormen  —  befell: 

70 


KUALA  PAHANG  71 

for  a  billet  of  wood  crashed  the  jug  to  bits,  cascading 
the  deck  with  good  Medford.  And,  his  hand  para 
lyzed  and  tingling  with  the  shock,  Gascar  remained 
staring  at  the  jug-handle  still  in  his  grip  and  at  the 
flowing  rum  on  deck. 

Howls  of  bitter  rage  broke  from  along  the  rail, 
and  the  rifles  began  crackling.  The  men,  cheated  of 
their  drink,  were  getting  out  of  hand. 

"  Cease  firing,  you !  "  screamed  Briggs.  "  You'll 
fire  when  I  command,  and  not  before.  Mr.  Bevans! 
Loaded  again?  " 

"  All  loaded,  sir.     Say  when!  " 

"  Not  yet !  Lay  a  good  aim  on  the  proa.  We've 
got  to  blow  her  out  o'  the  water !  " 

"  Aye,  aye,  sir !  "  And  Bevans  patted  the  rusty  old 
piece.  "  Leave  that  to  me,  sir !  " 

Briggs  turned  again  to  the  struggling  girl.  A  thin, 
evil  smile  drew  at  his  lips.  His  face,  under  its  bronze 
of  tan,  burned  with  infernal  exultation. 

"  Now,  my  beauty,"  he  mocked,  "  now  I'll  attend  to 
you !  " 

For  a  moment  he  eyed  Kuala  Pahang.  Under  the 
clear,  morning  light,  she  looked  a  strange  and  wild 
creature  indeed  —  golden-yellow  of  tint,  with  tangled 
black  hair,  and  the  eyes  of  a  trapped  tigress.  Bruises 
wealed  her  naked  arms  and  shoulders,  souvenirs  of 
the  captain's  club  and  fist.  Her  supple  body  was 
hardly  concealed  by  her  short  skirt  and  by  the  tight 
Malay  jacket  binding  her  lithe  waist  and  firm,  young 
breast. 

Briggs  exulted  over  her,  helpless  and  panting  in  the 
clutch  of  the  two  foremast-hands.  "  To  the  rail  with 
her !  "  he  ordered. 

"  What  you  goin'  to  do,  sir?  "  asked  one  of  the  men, 
staring.  "  Heave  her  over?  " 

Briggs  menaced  him  with  clenched  fist. 


72  CURSED 

"  None  o'  your  damned  business ! "  he  shouted. 
"To  the  rail  with  her!  Jump,  afore  I  teach  you 
how!" 

They  dragged  her,  screeching,  to  the  starboard  rail. 
All  the  time  they  had  to  hold  those  cat-clawed  hands 
of  hers.  From  side  to  side  she  flung  herself,  fighting 
every  foot  of  the  way.  Briggs  put  back  his  head  and 
laughed  at  the  rare  spectacle.  Twice  or  thrice  the 
sailors  slipped  in  blood  and  rum  upon  the  planking, 
and  once  Kuala  Pahang  all  but  jerked  free  from  them. 
At  the  capstan,  only  the  pistols  of  the  three  white 
guards  held  her  kinsmen  back  from  making  a  stampede 
rush;  and  not  even  the  pistols  could  silence  among 
them  a  menacing  hum  of  rage  that  seethed  and  bubbled. 

"  Here,  you !  "  shouted  Briggs.  "  Mahmud  Baba, 
you  yellow  cur,  come  here !  " 

Mahmud  loosed  his  hold  on  the  capstan-bar  and  in 
great  anguish  approached. 

"  Yas,  sar?"  whined  he.  The  lean,  brown  form 
was  trembling.  The  face  had  gone  a  jaundiced  color. 
"  I  come,  sar." 

Briggs  leveled  his  revolver  at  the  Malay.  Unmind 
ful  of  the  spattering  bullets,  he  spoke  with  delibera 
tion. 

"  Son  of  a  saffron  dog,"  said  he,  "  you're  going 
to  tell  this  wench  something  for  me !  " 

"Yas,  sar.     What  piecee  thing  me  tell?" 

"  You  tell  her  that  if  the  boats  don't  go  back  to 
land  I'll  heave  her  over  the  rail.  I'll  feed  her  to  the 
sharks,  by  God !  Alive,  to  the  sharks  —  sharks,  down 
there!  Savvy?" 

"  Me  savvy." 

"  And  she's  got  to  shout  that  to  the  canoes !  She's 
got  to  shout  it  to  'em.  Go  on,  now,  tell  her !  " 

Mahmud  hesitated  a  moment,  shuddered  and  gri 
maced.  His  eyes  narrowed  to  slits.  The  captain 


KUALA  PAHANG  73 

poked  the  revolver  into  his  ribs.  Mahtnud  quivered. 
He  fell  into  a  sing-song  patter  of  strange  words  with 
whining  intonations.  Suddenly  he  ceased. 

The  girl  listened,  her  gleaming  eyes  fixed  on  Mah- 
mud's  face.  A  sudden  question  issued  from  her 
bruised,  cut  lips. 

"  What's  she  asking?  "  demanded  Briggs. 

"She  ask  where  her  mother,  sar?" 

"  Tell  her !  Tell  her  I've  shot  the  old  she-devil  to 
hell,  and  beyond!  Tell  her  she'll  get  worse  if  she 
don't  make  the  canoes  stand  off  —  worse,  because  the 
sharks  will  get  her  alive!  Go  on,  you  black  scut  o' 
misery,  tell  her !  " 

Mahmud  spoke  again,  He  flung  a  hand  at  the  en 
veloping  half-circle  of  the  war-fleet.  The  nearest 
boats  now  were  moving  hardly  a  quarter-mile  away. 
The  gleam  of  krises  and  of  spears  twinkled  in  the 
sun.  Little  smoke-puffs  all  along  the  battle-front  kept 
pace  with  the  popping  of  gunfire.  In  the  proa,  oily 
brown  devils  were  laboring  to  reload  the  brass  cannon. 

Mahmud's  speech  ended.  The  girl  stiffened,  with 
clenched  hands.  The  sailors,  holding  her  wrists,  could 
feel  the  whipcord  tension  of  her  muscles. 

"  Tell  her  to  shout  to  the  proa  there !  "  yelled  the 
captain  in  white  fury.  "  Either  they  stand  off  or  over 
she  goes  —  and  you  see  for  yourself  there's  sharks 
enough !  " 

Again  Mahmud  spoke.  The  girl  grunted  a  mono 
syllable. 

"  What's  that  she  says  ?  "  demanded  Briggs. 

"  She  say  no,  sar.  She  die,  but  she  no  tell  her 
people." 

"  The  hell  you  say !  "  roared  the  captain.  He  seized 
her  neck  in  a  huge,  hairy  paw,  tightened  his  fingers 
till  they  bit  into  the  yellow  skin,  and  shook  her  vio 
lently. 


74  CURSED 

"  I'll  break  your  damned,  obstinate  neck  for  you !  " 
he  cried,  his  face  distorted.  "  Tell  your  people  to  go 
back!  Tell 'em!" 

Mahmud  translated  the  order.  The  girl  only 
laughed.  Briggs  knew  himself  beaten.  In  that  sneer 
ing  laugh  of  Kuala  Pahang's  echoed  a  world  of  mad 
dening  defiance.  He  loosened  his  hold,  trying  to  think 
how  he  should  master  her.  Another  man  grunted, 
by  the  rail,  and  slid  to  the  deck,  where  a  chance  bullet 
had  given  him  the  long  sleep. 

Briggs  whirled  on  Mahmud,  squeezed  his  lean 
shoulder  till  the  bones  bent. 

"  You  tell  'em !  "  he  bellowed.  "  If  she  won't,  you 
will!" 

"Me,  sar?"  whined  the  Malay,  shivering  and  fear- 
sick  to  the  inner  marrow.  "  Me  tell  so,  they  kill  me !  " 

"If  you  don't,  /  will!  Up  with  you  now  —  both 
o'  you,  up,  on  the  rail !  Here,  you  men  —  up  with 
'em!" 

They  hoisted  the  girl,  still  impassive,  to  the  rail,  and 
held  her  there.  The  firing  almost  immediately  died 
away.  Mahmud  tried  to  grovel  at  the  captain's  feet, 
•wailing  to  Allah  and  the  Prophet.  Briggs  flung  him 
up,  neck  and  crop.  Mahmud  grappled  the  after  back 
stays  and  clung  there,  quivering. 

"  Go  on,  now,  out  with  it !  "  snarled  Briggs,  his  pistol 
at  the  Malay's  back.  "  And  make  it  loud,  or  the 
sharks  will  get  you,  too !  " 

Mahmud  raised  a  bony  arm,  howled  words  that 
drifted  out  over  the  pearl-hued  waters.  Silence  fell, 
along  the  ragged  line  of  boats.  In  the  bow  of  the 
proa  a  figure  stood  up,  naked,  gleaming  with  oil  in  the 
sunlight,  which  flicked  a  vivid,  crimson  spot  of  color 
from  a  nodding  feather  head-dress. 

Back  to  the  Silver  Fleece  floated  a  high-pitched  ques 
tion,  fraught  with  a  heavy  toll  of  life  and  death.  Mah- 


KUALA  PAHANG  75 

mud  answered.  The  figure  waved  a  furious  arm,  and 
fire  leaped  from  the  brass  cannon. 

The  shot  went  high,  passing  harmlessly  over  the 
clipper  and  ricochetting  beyond.  But  at  the  same 
instant  a  carefully  laid  rifle,  from  a  canoe,  barked 
stridently.  Mahmud  coughed,  crumpled  and  slid  from 
the  rail.  He  dropped  plumb;  and  the  shoal  waters, 
clear-green  over  the  bar,  received  him. 

As  he  fell,  Briggs  struck  the  girl  with  a  full  drive  of 
his  trip-hammer  fist.  The  blow  broke  the  sailors'  hold. 
It  called  no  scream  from  Kuala  Pahang.  She  fell, 
writhing,  plunged  in  foam,  rose,  and  with  splendid 
energy  struck  out  for  the  canoes. 

Briggs  leaned  across  the  rail,  as  if  no  war-fleet  had 
been  lying  in  easy  shot ;  and  with  hard  fingers  tugging 
at  his  big,  black  beard,  watched  the  swimming  girl,  her 
lithe,  yellow  body  gleaming  through  the  water. 
Watched,  too,  the  swift  cutting  of  the  sharks'  fins 
toward  her  —  the  darting,  black  forms  —  the  grim 
tragedy  in  that  sudden,  reddening  whip  of  brine.  Then 
he  laughed,  his  teeth  gleaming  like  wolves'  teeth,  as 
he  heard  her  scream. 

"  Broke  her  silence  at  last,  eh  ?  "  he  sneered.  "  They 
got  a  yell  out  of  the  she-dog,  the  sharks  did,  even  if  I 
couldn't  — eh?" 

Along  the  rail,  hard-bitten  as  the  clipper's  men  were, 
oaths  broke  out,  and  mutterings.  Work  slackened  at 
the  capstan,  and  for  the  moment  the  guards  forgot 
to  drive  their  lathering  slaves  there. 

"  Great  God,  captain !  "  sounded  the  doctor's  voice, 
as  he  looked  up  from  a  wounded  man.  "  You've 
murdered  us  all !  " 

Briggs  only  laughed  again  and  looked  to  his  pistol. 

"  They're  coming  now,  men,"  said  he  coolly.  To 
his  ears  the  high  and  rising  tumult  from  the  flotilla 
made  music.  The  lust  of  war  was  in  him.  For  a 


76  CURSED 

moment  he  peered  intently  at  the  paddle-men  once 
more  bending  to  their  work ;  the  brandished  krises  and 
long  spears;  the  spattering  of  bullets  all  along  the 
water. 

"  Let  'em  come !  "  he  cried,  laughing  once  more. 
"  With  hot  lead  and  boiling  water  and  cold  steel,  I 
reckon  we're  ready  for  'em.  Steady's  the  word,  boys ! 
They're  coming  —  give  'em  hell !  " 


CHAPTER  XI 

HOME  BOUND 

Noon  witnessed  a  strange  scene  in  the  Straits  of 
Motomolo,  a  scene  of  agony  and  death. 

Over  the  surface  of  the  strait,  inborne  by  the  tide, 
extended  a  broad  field  of  debris,  of  shattered  planks, 
bamboos,  platted  sails. 

In  mid-scene,  sunk  on  Ulu  Salama  bar  only  a  few 
fathoms  from  where  the  Silver  Fleece  had  lain,  rested 
the  dismantled  wreck  of  the  proa.  The  unpitying 
sun  flooded  that  wreck  —  what  was  left  of  it  after  a 
powder-cask,  fitted  with  fuse,  had  been  hurled  aboard 
by  Captain  Briggs  himself.  No  living  man  remained 
aboard.  On  the  high  stern  still  projecting  from  the 
sea  —  the  stern  whence  a  thin  waft  of  smoke  still  rose 
against  the  sky  —  a  few  broken,  yellow  bodies  lay 
half  consumed  by  fire,  twisted  and  hideous. 

Of  the  small  canoes,  not  one  remained.  Such  as 
had  not  been  capsized  and  broken  up,  had  lamely  pad 
dled  back  to  shore  with  the  few  Malays  who  had 
survived  the  guns  and  cutlasses  and  brimming  kettles 
of  seething  water.  Corpses  lay  awash.  The  sharks 
no  longer  quarreled  for  them.  Full-fed  on  the  finest 
of  eating,  they  hardly  snouted  at  the  remnants  of  the 
feast. 

So  much,  then,  for  the  enemy.  And  the  Silver 
'Fleece  —  what  of  her? 

A  mile  to  seaward  flying  a  few  rags  of  canvas,  the 
wounded  clipper  was  limping  on,  under  a  little  slant 
of  wind  that  gave  her  hardly  steerageway.  Her 
kedge  cable  had  been  chopped,  her  mizzen-topmast 

77 


78  CURSED 

was  down,  and  a  raffle  of  spars,  ropes  and  canvas  lit 
tered  her  decks  or  had  brought  down  the  awnings,  that 
smoldered  where  the  fire-arrows  had  ignited  them. 

Her  deck-houses  showed  the  splintering  effects  of 
rifle  and  cannon-fire.  Here,  there,  lay  empty  pails 
and  coppers  that  had  held  boiling  water.  Along  the 
rails  and  lying  distorted  on  deck,  dead  men  and 
wounded  —  white,  brown  and  yellow  —  were  sprawl 
ing.  And  there  were  wounds  and  mutilations  and 
dead  men  still  locked  in  grapples  eloquent  of  fury  — : 
a  red  shambles  on  the  planks  once  so  whitely  holy 
stoned. 

The  litter  of  knives,  krises,  cutlasses  and  firearms 
told  the  story;  told  that  some  of  the  Malays  had 
boarded  the  Silver  Fleece  and  that  none  of  these  had 
got  awray. 

The  brassy  noonday  fervor,  blazing  from  an  un 
clouded  sky,  starkly  revealed  every  detail.  On  the 
heavy  air  a  mingled  odor  of  smoke  and  blood  drifted 
upward,  as  from  a  barbaric  pyre  to  some  unpitying  and 
sanguinary  god  —  perhaps  already  to  the  avenging  god 
that  old  Dengan  Jouga  had  called  upon  to  curse  the 
captain  and  his  ship,  "  the  Eyeless  Face  that  waits 
above  and  laughs." 

A  doleful  sound  of  groaning  and  cursing  arose. 
Beside  the  windlass  —  deserted  now,  with  part  of  the 
Malays  dead  and  part  under  hatches  —  Gascar  was 
feebly  raising  a  hand  to  his  bandaged  head,  as  he 
lay  there  on  his  back.  His  eyes,  open  and  staring, 
seemed  to  question  the  sun  that  cooked  his  bloodied 
face.  A  brown  man,  blind  and  aimless,  was  crawling 
on  slippery  red  hands  and  knees,  amidships ;  and  as  he 
crawled,  he  moaned  monotonously.  Two  more,  both 
white,  were  sitting  with  their  backs  against  the  deck 
house.  Neither  spoke.  One  was  past  speech ;  the 
other,  badly  slashed  about  the  shoulders,  was  groping 


HOME  BOUND  79 

in  his  pockets  for  tobacco ;  and,  finding  none,  was  fee 
bly  cursing. 

Bevans,  leaning  against  the  taffrail,  was  binding  his 
right  forearm  with  strips  torn  from  the  shirt  that 
hung  on  him  in  tatters.  He  was  swearing  mechan 
ically,  in  a  sing-song  voice,  as  the  blood  seeped  through 
each  fresh  turn  of  cotton. 

From  the  fo'c's'le  was  issuing  a  confused  sound. 
At  the  wheel  stood  a  sailor,  beside  whom  knelt  the 
doctor.  As  this  sailor  grimly  held  the  wheel,  Filhiol 
was  bandaging  his  thigh. 

"  It's  the  best  I  can  do  for  you  now,  my  man," 
the  doctor  was  saying.  "  Others  need  me  worse  than 
you  do." 

A  laugh  from  the  companionway  jangled  on  this 
scene  of  agony.  There  stood  Alpheus  Briggs,  smear 
ing  his  bearded  lips  with  his  hirsute  paw  —  for  once 
again  he  had  been  at  the  liquor  below.  He  blinked 
about  him,  set  both  fists  on  his  hips,  and  then  flung 
an  oath  of  all-comprehensive  execration  at  sea  and  sky 
and  ship. 

"  Well,  anyhow,  by  the  holy  Jeremiah,"  he  cried, 
with  another  laugh  of  barbaric  merriment,  "  I've  taught 
those  yellow  devils  one  good  lesson !  " 

A  shocking  figure  the  captain  made.  All  at  once 
Prass  came  up  from  below  and  stood  beside  him. 
Mauled  as  Prass  was,  he  seemed  untouched  by  com 
parison  with  Briggs.  The  captain's  presence  affronted 
heaven  and  earth,  with  its  gross  ugliness  of  rags  and 
dirt  and  wounds,  above  which  his  savage  spirit  seemed 
to  rise  indifferent,  as  if  such  trifles  as  mutilations  lay 
beneath  notice. 

Across  the  captain's  brow  a  gash  oozed  redly  into 
his  eye,  puffy,  discolored.  As  he  smeared  his  fore 
head,  his  arm  knotted  into  hard  bunches.  His  hairy 
breast  was  slit  with  slashes,  too ;  his  mop  of  beard  had 


8o  CURSED 

stiffened  from  a  wound  across  his  cheek.  Nothing  of 
his  shirt  remained,  save  a  few  tatters  dangling  from 
his  tightly-drawn  belt.  His  magnificent  torso,  mus 
cled  like  an  Atlas,  was  all  grimed  with  sweat,  blood, 
dirt.  Save  for  his  boots,  nothing  of  his  clothing 
remained  intact;  and  the  boots  were  sodden  red. 

Now  as  he  stood  there',  peering  out  with  his  one 
serviceable  eye  under  a  heavy,  bushy  brow,  and  chew 
ing  curses  to  himself,  he  looked  a  man,  if  one  ever 
breathed,  unbeaten  and  unbeatable. 

The  captain's  voice  gusted  out  raw  and  brutelike, 
along  the  shambles  of  the  deck. 

"  Hell  of  a  thing,  this  is !  And  all  along  of  a  yellow 
wench.  Devil  roast  all  women!  An'  devil  take  the 
rotten,  cowardly  crew!  If  I'd  had  that  crew  I  went 
black-birding  with  up  the  Gold  Coast,  not  one  o'  those 
hounds  would  have  boarded  us.  But  they  didn't  get 
the  she-dog  back,  did  they?  It's  bad,  bad,  but  might 
be  worse,  so  help  me !  " 

Again  he  laughed,  with  white  teeth  gleaming  in 
his  reddened  beard,  and  lurched  out  on  deck.  He 
peered  about  him.  A  brown  body  lay  before  him, 
face  upward,  with  grinning  teeth.  Briggs  recognized 
the  turtle-egg  seller,  who  had  thrown  the  kris.  With 
a  foul  oath  he  kicked  the  body. 

"  You  got  paid  off,  anyhow,"  he  growled.  "  Now 
you  and  Scurlock  can  fight  it  out  together,  in  hell!" 

He  turned  to  the  doctor,  and  limped  along  the  deck. 

"Doctor  Filhiol!" 

"  Yes,  sir  ?  "  answered  the  doctor,  still  busy  with 
the  man  at  the  wheel. 

"  Make  a  short  job  o'  that,  and  get  to  work  on 
those  two  by  the  deck-house.  We've  got  to  muster 
all  hands  as  quick  as  the  Lord  '11  let  us  —  got  to  get 
sail  on  her,  an'  away.  These  damned  Malays  will  be 
worryin'  at  our  heels  again,  if  we  don't." 


HOME  BOUND  81 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Filhiol,  curtly.  He  made  the  ban 
dage  fast,  took  his  kit,  and  started  forward.  Briggs 
laid  a  detaining  hand  on  his  arm  —  a  hand  that  left  a 
broad  red  stain  on  the  rolled-up  sleeve. 

"  Doctor,"  said  he,  thickly,  "  we've  got  to  stand  to 
gether,  now.  There's  a  scant  half-dozen  men,  here, 
able  to  pull  a  rope;  and  with  them  we've  got  to  make 
Singapore.  Do  your  best,  doctor  —  do  your  best !  " 

"  I  will,  sir.  But  that  includes  cutting  off  your 
rum!" 

The  captain  roared  into  boisterous  laughter  and 
slapped  Filhiol  on  the  back 

"  You'll  have  to  cut  my  throat  first !  "  he  ejaculated. 
"  No,  no ;  as  long  as  I've  got  a  gullet  to  swallow  with, 
and  the  rum  lasts,  I'll  lay  to  it.  Patch  'em  up,  doctor, 
an'  then—" 

"  You  could  do  with  a  bit  of  patching,  yourself." 

The  captain  waved  him  away. 

"  Scratches !  "  he  cried.  "  Let  the  sun  dry  'em 
up !  "  He  shoved  the  doctor  forward,  and  followed 
him,  kicking  to  right  and  left  a  ruck  of  weapons  and 
debris.  Together  the  men  advanced,  stumbling  over 
bodies. 

"  Patch  those  fellows  up  the  best  you  can,"  directed 
Briggs,  gesturing  at  the  pair  by  the  deck-house. 
"  One  of  'em,  anyhow,  may  be  some  good.  We've 
got  to  save  every  man  possible,  now.  Not  that  I  love 
'em,  God  knows,"  he  added,  swaying  slightly  as  he 
stood  there,  with  his  blood-stained  hand  upon  the  rail. 
"  The  yellow-bellied  pups !  We've  got  to  save  'em. 
Though  if  this  was  Singapore,  I'd  let  'em  rot.  At 
Singapore,  Lascars  are  plenty,  and  beach-combers  you 
can  get  for  a  song  a  dozen.  Get  to  work  now,  sir,  get 
to  work !  " 

Life  resumed  something  of  order  aboard  the  Silver 
Fleece,  as  she  wore  slowly  down  Motomolo  Strait. 


82  CURSED 

The  few  Malays  of  the  crew,  who  had  survived  the 
fight  and  had  failed  to  make  their  escape  with  the  re 
treating  forces,  were  for  the  present  kept  locked  in  the 
deck-house.  Briggs  was  taking  no  chances  with  an 
other  of  the  yellow  dogs  running  amok. 

The  number  of  hands  who  mustered  for  service, 
including  Briggs,  Wansley  and  the  doctor,  was  only 
nine.  This  remnant  of  a  crew,  as  rapidly  as  weak  and 
wounded  flesh  could  compass  it,  spread  canvas  and 
cleaned  ship.  A  grisly  task  that  was,  of  sliding  the 
remaining  bodies  over  the  rail  and  of  sluicing  down 
the  reddened  decks  with  buckets  of  warm  sea-water. 
More  and  more  canvas  filled  —  canvas  cut  and  burned, 
yet  still  holding  wind  enough  to  drive  the  clipper. 
The  Silver  Fleece  heeled  gracefully  and  gathered  way. 

Slowly  the  scene  of  battle  drew  astern,  marked  by 
the  thin  smoke  still  rising  from  the  wreckage  of  the 
proa.  Slowly  the  haze-shrouded  line  of  shore  grew 
dim.  A  crippled  ship,  bearing  the  dregs  of  a  muti 
lated  crew,  she  left  the  vague,  blue  headland  of  Col- 
umpo  Point  to  starboard,  and  so  —  sorely  broken 
but  still  alive  —  passed  beyond  all  danger  of  pursuit. 

And  as  land  faded,  Captain  Alpheus  Briggs,  drunk, 
blood-stained,  swollen  with  malice  and  evil  triumph, 
stood  by  the  shattered  taffrail,  peering  back  at  the 
vanishing  scene  of  one  more  battle  in  a  life  that  had 
been  little  save  violence  and  sin.  Freighted  with 
fresh  and  heavy  crimes  he  exulted,  laughing  in  his 
blood-thick  beard.  The  tropic  sun  beat  down  upon 
his  face,  bringing  each  wicked  line  to  strong  relief. 

"  Score  one  more  for  me,"  he  sneered,  his  hairy 
fists  clenched  hard.  "  Hell's  got  you  now,  witch- 
woman,  an'  Scurlock  an'  all  the  rest  that  went  against 
me.  But  I'm  still  on  deck!  They  don't  stick  on  me, 
curses  don't.  And  I'll  outlaugh  that  Eyeless  Face — > 


HOME  BOUND  83 

outlaugh  it,  by  God,  and  come  again.  And  so  to  hell 
with  that,  too !  " 

He  folded  steel-muscled  arms  across  his  bleeding, 
sweating  chest,  heaved  a  deep  breath  and  gloried  in  his 
lawless  strength. 

"  To  hell  with  that!  "  he  spat,  once  more.  "  I  win 
—  I  always  win !  To  hell  with  everything  that  crosses 
me!" 


CHAPTER  XII 

AT   LONG   WHARF 

Four  months  from  that  red  morning,  the  Silver 
Fleece  drew  in  past  Nix's  Mate  and  the  low-buttressed 
islands  in  Boston  Harbor,  and  with  a  tug  to  ease 
her  to  her  berth,  made  fast  at  Long  Wharf. 

All  signs  of  the  battle  had  long  since  been  oblit 
erated,  overlaid  by  other  hardships,  violences,  evil 
deeds.  Her  bottom  fouled  by  tropic  weed  and  barna 
cles  that  had  accumulated  in  West  Indian  waters,  her 
canvas  brown  and  patched,  she  came  to  rest.  Of  all 
the  white  men  who  had  sailed  with  her,  nearly  two 
years  before,  now  remained  only  Captain  Briggs,  Mr. 
Wansley,  and  the  doctor.  The  others  who  had  es 
caped  the  fight  had  all  died  or  deserted  on  the  home- 
bound  journey.  One  had  been  caught  by  bubonic  at 
Bombay,  and  two  by  beri-beri  at  Mowanga,  on  the 
Ivory  Coast;  the  others  had  taken  French  leave  as 
occasion  had  permitted. 

Short-handed,  with  a  rag-tag  crew,  the  Fleece 
made  her  berth.  She  seemed  innocent  enough.  The 
sickening  stench  of  the  slave  cargo  that  had  burdened 
her  from  Mowanga  to  Cuba  had  been  fumigated  out 
of  her,  and  now  she  appeared  only  a  legitimate  trader. 
That  she  bore,  deftly  hidden  in  secret  places,  a  hun 
dred  boxes  of  raw  opium,  who  could  have  suspected? 

As  the  hawsers  were  flung  and  the  clipper  creaked 
against  the  wharf,  there  came  to  an  end  surely  one 
of  the  worst  voyages  that  ever  an  American  clipper- 
ship  made.  And  this  is  saying  a  great  deal.  Those 

84 


AT  LONG  WHARF  85 

were  hard  days  —  days  when  Massachusetts  ships 
carried  full  cargoes  of  Medford  rum  and  Bibles  to 
the  West  Coast,  and  came  back  as  slavers,  with  black 
ivory  groaning  and  dying  under  hatches  —  days  when 
the  sharks  trailed  all  across  the  Atlantic,  for  the  bodies 
of  black  men  and  women  —  hard  days  and  evil  ways, 
indeed. 

Very  spruce  and  fine  was  Captain  Briggs ;  very  much 
content  with  life  and  with  the  strength  that  in  him  lay, 
that  excellent  May  morning,  as  with  firm  stride  and 
clear  eye  he  walked  up  State  Street,  in  Boston  Town. 
The  wounds  which  would  have  killed  a  weaker  man 
had  long  since  healed  on  him.  Up  from  the  water 
front  he  walked,  resplendent  in  his  best  blue  suit, 
and  with  a  gold-braided  cap  on  his  crisp  hair.  His 
black  beard  was  carefully  trimmed  and  combed;  his 
bronzed,  full-fleshed  face  glowed  with  health  and, 
satisfaction;  and  the  smoke  of  his  cigar  drifted  be 
hind  him  on  the  morning  air.  As  he  went  he  hummed 
an  ancient  chantey: 

"  Oh,  Sharlo  Brown,  I  love  your  datter, 
Awa-a-ay,  my  rollin'  river ! 
Oh,  Sharlo  Brown,  I  love  your  datter, 
Ah  !  Ah  !     We're  bound  with  awa-a-ay, 
'Cross  the  wide  Missouri !  " 

Past  the  ship-chandlers'  stores,  where  all  manner  of 
sea  things  lay  in  the  windows,  he  made  his  way,  and 
past  the  marine  brokers'  offices ;  past  the  custom-house 
and  up  along  the  Old  State  House ;  and  so  he  came  into 
Court  Street  and  Court  Square,  hard  by  which,  in 
a  narrow,  cobbled  lane,  the  Bell-in-Hand  Tavern  was 
awaiting  him. 

All  the  way  along,  shipmasters  and  seafaring  folk 
nodded  respectfully  to  Alpheus  Briggs,  or  touched 
their  hats  to  him.  But  few  men  smiled.  His  rep- 


86  CURSED 

utation  of  hard  blows  and  harder  dealings  made  men 
salute  him.  But  no  man  seized  him  by  the  hand, 
or  haled  him  into  any  public  house  to  toast  his  safe 
return. 

Under  the  dark  doorway  of  the  Bell-in-Hand  — > 
under  the  crude,  wooden  fist  that  from  colonial  times, 
as  even  to-day,  has  held  the  gilded,  wooden  bell  — 
Briggs  paused  a  moment,  then  entered  the  inn.  His 
huge  bulk  seemed  almost  to  fill  the  dim,  smoky,  low- 
posted  old  place,  its  walls  behung  with  colored  wood 
cuts  of  ships  and  with  fine  old  sporting  prints.  The 
captain  raised  a  hand  of  greeting  to  Enoch  Winch, 
the  publican,  passed  the  time  of  day  with  him,  and 
called  for  a  pewter  of  Four-X,  to  be  served  in  the 
back  room. 

There  he  sat  down  in  the  half-gloom  that  seeped 
through  the  little  windows  of  heavily  leaded  bull's- 
eye  glass.  He  put  his  cap  off,  drew  deeply  at  his 
cigar,  and  sighed  with  vast  content. 

"  Back  home  again,"  he  murmured.  "  A  hell  of 
a  time  I've  had,  and  that's  no  lie.  But  I'm  back 
home  at  last !  " 

His  satisfaction  was  doubled  by  the  arrival  of  the 
pewter  of  ale.  Briggs  drank  deeply  of  the  cold  brew, 
then  dried  his  beard  with  a  handkerchief  of  purple 
silk.  Not  now  did  he  smear  his  mouth  with  his  hand. 
This  was  a  wholly  other  and  more  elegant  Alpheus 
Briggs.  Having  changed  his  latitude  and  raiment,  he 
had  likewise  changed  his  manners. 

He  drained  the  pewter  till  light  showed  through  the 
glass  bottom  —  the  bottom  reminiscent  of  old  days 
when  to  accept  a  shilling  from  a  recruiting  officer, 
even  unaware,  meant  being  pressed  into  the  service; 
for  a  shilling  in  an  empty  mug  was  held  as  proof 
of  enlistment,  unless  instantly  detected  and  denied. 
Briggs  smiled  at  memory  of  the  trick. 


AT  LONG  WHARF  87 

"  Clumsy  stratagem,"  he  pondered.  "  We're  a  bit 
slicker,  to-day.  In  the  old  days  it  took  time  to  make 
a  fortune.  Now,  a  little  boldness  turns  the  trick,  just 
as  I've  turned  it,  this  time !  " 

He  rapped  on  the  table  for  another  pewter  of 
Four-X.  Stronger  liquors  would  better  have  suited 
his  taste,  but  he  had  certain  business  still  to  be  carried 
out,  and  when  ashore  the  captain  never  let  drink  take 
precedence  of  business. 

The  second  pewter  put  Captain  Briggs  in  a  remi 
niscent  mood,  wherein  memories  of  the  stirring  events 
of  the  voyage  just  ended  mingled  with  the  comforting 
knowledge  that  he  had  much  money  in  pocket  and  that 
still  more  was  bound  to  come,  before  that  day's  end. 
As  in  a  kind  of  mental  mirage,  scenes  arose  before 
him  —  scenes  of  hardship  and  crime,  now  in  security 
by  no  means  displeasing  to  recall. 

The  affair  with  the  Malay  war  fleet  had  already  been 
half -obliterated  by  more  recent  violences.  Briggs 
pondered  on  the  sudden  mutiny  that  had  broken  out, 
ten  days  from  Bombay,  led  by  a  Liverpool  ruffian 
named  Quigley,  who  had  tried  to  brain  him  with  a 
piece  of  iron  in  a  sock.  Briggs  had  simply  flung  him 
into  the  sea;  then  he  had  faced  the  others  with  naked 
fists,  and  they  had  slunk  away  forward. 

He  and  Wansley  had  later  lashed  them  to  the  gang 
way  and  had  given  them  the  cat  to  exhaustion. 
Briggs  felt  that  he  had  come  out  of  this  affair  with 
honors.  He  took  another  draught  of  ale. 

Beating  up  the  West  Coast,  he  recalled  how  he  had 
punished  a  young  Irishman,  McCune,  whom  he  had 
shipped  at  Cape  Town.  McCune,  from  the  supposed 
security  of  the  foretop-gallant  yard,  had  cursed  him 
for  a  black-hearted  bucko.  Without  parley,  Briggs 
had  run  up  the  ratlines,  and  had  flung  McCune  to  the 
deck.  The  man  had  lived  only  a  few  minutes. 


88  CURSED 

Briggs  nodded  with,  satisfaction.  He  clenched  his 
right  fist,  hairy,  corded,  and  turned  it  this  way  and 
that,  glad  of  its  power.  Greatly  did  he  admire  the 
resistless  argument  that  lay  in  all  its  bones  and 
ligaments. 

"  There's  no  man  can  talk  back  to  me! "  he  growled. 
"  No,  by  the  Judas  priest !  " 

Now  came  less  pleasing  recollections.  The  slave 
cargo  on  the  west-bound  voyage  had  been  unusually 
heavy.  Ironed  wrist  and  ankle,  the  blacks  —  men, 
women,  children,  purchased  as  a  rather  poor  bargain 
lot  from  an  Arab  trader  —  had  lain  packed  in  the 
hold.  They  had  been  half  starved  when  Briggs  had 
loaded  them,  and  the  fever  had  already  got  among 
them.  The  percentage  of  loss  had  been  a  bit  too 
heavy.  Some  death  was  legitimate,  of  course;  but  an 
excessive  mortality  meant  loss. 

The  death  rate  had  risen  so  high  that  Briggs  had 
even  considered  bringing  some  of  the  black  ivory  on 
deck,  and  increasing  the  ration.  But  in  the  end  he 
had  decided  to  hold  through,  and  trust  luck  to  arrive 
in  Cuba  with  enough  slaves  to  pay  a  good  margin. 
Results  had  justified  his  decision. 

"  I  was  right  about  that,  too,"  thought  he.  "  Seems 
like  I'm  always  right  —  or  else  it's  gilt-edged  luck!" 

Yet,  in  spite  of  all,  that  voyage  had  left  some  dis 
agreeable  memories.  The  reek  and  stifle  of  the  hold, 
the  groaning  and  crying  of  the  blacks  —  that  no 
amount  of  punishment  could  silence  —  had  vastly  an 
noyed  the  captain.  The  way  in  which  his  crew  had 
stricken  the  shackles  from  the  dead  and  from  those 
manifestly  marked  for  death  and  had  heaved  them 
overboard  to  the  trailing  sharks,  had  been  only  a 
trivial  detail. 

But  the  fact  that  Briggs's  own  cabin  had  been  in- 


AT  LONG  WHARF  89 

vaded  by  vermin  and  by  noxious  odors  had  greatly 
annoyed  the  captain.  Not  all  Doctor  Filhiol's  burn 
ing  of  pungent  substances  in  the  cabin  had  been  able 
to  purify  the  air.  Briggs  had  cursed  the  fact  that 
this  most  profitable  trafficking  had  involved  such  dis 
agreeable  concomitants,  and  had  consoled  himself  with 
much  strong  drink. 

Then,  too,  a  five-day  blow,  three  hundred  miles  west 
of  the  Cape  Verdes,  had  killed  off  more  than  forty 
of  his  negroes  and  had  made  conditions  doubly  in 
tolerable.  Once  more  he  formulated  thoughts  in 
words : 

"  Damn  it !  I  might  have  done  better  to  have 
scuttled  her,  off  the  African  coast,  and  have  drawn 
down  my  share  of  the  insurance  money.  If  I'd  known 
what  I  was  running  into,  that's  just  what  I  would  have 
done,  so  help  me!  I  made  a  devilish  good  thing  of 
it,  that  way,  in  the  old  White  Cloud  two  years  ago. 
And  never  was  so  much  as  questioned !  " 

He  pondered  a  moment,  frowning  blackly. 

"  Maybe  I  did  wrong,  after  all,  to  bring  the  Fleece 
into  port.  But  if  I  hadn't,  I'd  have  had  to  sacrifice 
those  hundred  boxes  of  opium,  that  will  bring  me  a 
clear  two  hundred  apiece,  from  Hendricks.  So  after 
all,  it's  all  right.  I'm  satisfied." 

He  drained  the  last  of  the  Four-X,  and  carefully 
inspected  his  watch. 

"  Ten-fifteen,"  said  he.  "  And  I'm  to  meet  Hen 
dricks  at  ten-thirty  at  the  Tremont  House.  I'll  hoist 
anchor  and  away." 

He  paid  his  score  with  scrupulous  exactness,  for  in 
such  matters  he  greatly  prided  himself  on  his  honesty, 
lighted  a  fresh  cigar,  and  departed  from  the  Bell-in- 
Hand. 

Cigar  in  mouth,  smoke  trailing  on  the  May  morn- 


90  CURSED 

ing,  he  made  his  way  to  School  Street  and  up  it.  A 
fine  figure  of  a  mariner  he  strode  along,  erect,  deep- 
chested,  thewed  and  sinewed  like  a  bull. 

In  under  the  columned  portals  of  the  old  Tremont 
House  —  now  long  since  only  a  memory  —  he  entered, 
to  his  rendezvous  with  Hendricks,  furtive  buyer  of 
the  forbidden  drug. 

And  as  he  vanishes  beneath  that  granite  doorway, 
for  fifty  years  he  passes  from  our  sight. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

AFTER    FIFTY    YEARS 

If  you  will  add  into  one  total  all  that  is  sunniest 
and  most  sheltered,  all  that  hangs  heaviest  with  the 
perfume  of  old-fashioned  New  England  gardens,  all 
that  most  cozily  combines  in  an  old-time  sailor's  home, 
you  will  form  a  picture  of  Snug  Haven,  demesne  of 
Captain  Alpheus  Briggs,  long  years  retired. 

Snug  Haven,  with  gray-shingled  walls,  with  mas 
sive  chimney  stacks  projecting  from  its  weather- 
beaten,  gambreled  roof,  seemed  to  epitomize  rest  after 
labor,  peace  after  strife. 

From  its  broad  piazza,  with  morning-glory-covered 
pillars,  a  splendid  view  opened  of  sea  and  shore  and 
foam-ringed  islets  in  the  harbor  of  South  Endicutt  — 
a  view  commanding  kelp-strewn  foreshore,  rock-but 
tressed  headlands,  sun-spangled  cobalt  of  the  bay ;  and 
then  the  white,  far  tower  of  Truxbury  Light,  and  then 
the  hazed  and  brooding  mystery  of  open  Atlantic. 

Behind  the  cottage  rose  Croft  Hill,  sweet  with  ferns, 
with  bayberries  and  wild  roses  crowding  in  among 
the  lichen-crusted  boulders  and  ribbed  ledges,  where 
gnarly,  ancient  apple-trees  and  silver  birches  clung. 
Atop  the  hill,  a  wall  of  mossy  stones  divided  the  living 
from  the  dead ;  for  there  the  cemetery  lay,  its  simple 
monuments  and  old,  gray  headstones  of  carven  slate 
bearing  some  family  names  that  have  loomed  big  in 
history. 

Along  the  prim  box-hedge  of  Captain  Briggs's  front 
garden,  the  village  street  extended.  Wandering  ir- 

91 


92  CURSED 

regularly  with  the  broken  shore  line,  it  led  past  time- 
grayed  dwellings,  past  the  schoolhouse  and  the  white, 
square-steepled  church,  to  the  lobstermen's  huts,  the 
storehouses  and  wharves,  interspersed  with  "  fish- 
flakes  "  that  blent  pungent  marine  odors  with  the  fresh 
tang  of  the  sea. 

Old  Mother  Nature  did  her  best,  all  along  that  street 
and  in  the  captain's  garden,  to  soften  those  sometimes 
insistent  odors,  with  her  own  perfumes  of  asters  and 
petunias,  nasturtiums,  dahlias,  sweet  fern,  and  fresh, 
revivifying  caresses  of  poplar,  elm  and  pine,  of  sumac, 
buttonwood  and  willow. 

With  certain  westerly  breezes  —  breezes  that  bore 
to  Snug  Haven  the  sad,  slow  chant  of  the  whistling 
buoy  on  Graves  Shoal  and  the  tolling  of  the  bell  buoy 
on  the  Shallows  —  oakum  and  tar,  pitch,  salt  and  fish 
had  the  best  of  it  in  South  Endicutt.  But  with  a  shift 
to  landward,  apple-tree,  mignonette  and  phlox  and 
other  blooms  marshalled  victorious  essences;  and  the 
little  village  by  the  lip  of  the  sea  grew  sweet  and  warm 
as  the  breast  of  a  young  girl  who  dreams. 

The  afternoon  on  which  Captain  Alpheus  Briggs 
once  more  comes  to  our  sight  —  the  24th  of  June,  1918 
—  was  just  one  of  those  drowsy,  perfumed  afternoons, 
when  the  long  roar  of  the  breakers  over  Dry  Shingle 
Reef  seemed  part  of  the  secrets  the  breeze  was  whis 
pering  among  the  pine  needles  on  Croft  Hill,  and 
when  the  droning  of  the  captain's  bees,  among  his 
spotted  tiger-lilies,  his  sweet  peas,  cannas  and  hydran 
geas,  seemed  conspiring  with  the  sun-drenched  warmth 
of  the  old-fashioned  garden  to  lull  man's  spirit  into 
rest  and  soothe  life's  fever  with  nepenthe. 

Basking  in  the  sunlight  of  his  piazza,  at  ease  in  a 
broad-armed  rocker  by  a  wicker  table,  the  old  captain 
appeared  mightily  content  with  life.  Beside  him  lay 
a  wiry-haired  Airedale,  seemingly  asleep  yet  with  one 


AFTER  FIFTY  YEARS  93, 

eye  ready  to  cock  open  at  the  captain's  slightest  move. 
A  blue  cap,  gold-braided,  hung  atop  one  of  the  up 
rights  of  the  rocking-chair;  the  captain's  bushy  hair, 
still  thick,  though  now  spun  silver,  contrasted  with  his 
deep-lined  face,  tanned  brown.  Glad  expectancy 
showed  in  his  deep-set  eyes,  clear  blue  as  they  had 
been  full  fifty  years  ago,  eyes  under  bushy  brows  that, 
once  black,  now  matched  the  silver  of  his  hair. 

White,  too,  his  beard  had  grown.  Once  in  a  while 
he  stroked  it,  nervously,  with  a  strong,  corded  hand 
that  seemed,  as  his  whole,  square-knit  body  seemed, 
almost  as  vigorous  as  in  the  long  ago  —  the  half- 
forgotten,  wholly  repented  long  ago  of  violence  and 
evil  ways.  Not  yet  had  senility  laid  its  clutch  upon 
Alpheus  Briggs.  Wrinkles  had  come,  and  a  certain 
stooping  of  the  powerful  shoulders;  but  the  old  cap 
tain's  blue  coat  with  its  brass  buttons  still  covered  a 
body  of  iron  strength. 

The  telescope  across  his  knees  was  no  more  trim 
than  he.  Carefully  tended  beard,  well-brushed  coat 
and  polished  boots  all  proclaimed  Alpheus  Briggs  a 
proud  old  man.  Though  the  soul  of  him  had  utterly 
changed,  still  Captain  Briggs  held  true  to  type.  In 
him  no  laxity  inhered,  no  falling  away  from  the  strict 
tenets  of  shipshape  neatness. 

The  captain  appeared  to  be  waiting  for  something. 
Once  in  a  while  he  raised  the  telescope  and  directed 
it  toward  the  far  blue  sheet  of  the  outer  harbor,  where 
the  headland  of  Pigeon  Cliff  thrust  itself  against  the 
gray-green  of  the  ship  channel,  swimming  in  a  distant 
set  of  haze.  Eagerly  he  explored  the  prospect,  letting 
his  glass  rest  on  white  lines  of  gulls  .that  covered  the 
tide-bars,  on  the  whiter  lines  of  foam  over  the  reef,  on 
the  catboats  and  dories,  the  rusty  coasting  steamers 
and  clumsy  coal-barges  near  or  far  away.  With  care 
he  sought  among  the  tawny  sails ;  and  as  each  schooner 


94  CURSED 

tacked,  its  canvas  now  sunlit,  now  umber  in  shade,  the 
captain's  gaze  seemed  questioning:  "Are  you  the 
craft  I  seek?" 

The  answer  came  always  negative.  With  patience, 
Captain  Briggs  lowered  his  glass  again  and  resumed 
his  vigil. 

"  No  use  getting  uneasy,"  said  he,  at  last ;  and 
brought  out  pipe  and  tobacco  from  the  pocket  of  his 
square-cut  jacket.  "  It  won't  bring  him  a  bit  sooner. 
He  wrote  me  he'd  be  here  sometime  to-day,  and  that 
means  he  surely  will  be.  He's  a  Briggs.  What  he 
says  he'll  do  he  will  do.  No  Briggs  ever  breaks  a 
promise,  and  Hal  is  all  clear  Briggs,  from  truck  to 
keelson !  " 

Waiting,  pondering,  the  old  man  let  his  eyes  wander 
over  the  Snug  Haven  of  his  last  years ;  the  place  where 
he  could  keep  contact  with  sunshine  and  seashine,  with 
the  salt  breeze  and  the  bite  of  old  ocean,  yet  where 
comfort  and  peace  profound  could  all  be  his. 

A  pleasant  domain  it  was,  and  in  all  its  arrange 
ments  eloquent  of  the  old  captain.  There  life  had 
been  very  kind  to  him,  and  there  his  darkest  mo 
ments  of  bereavement  had  been  fought  through,  sur 
vived.  Thither,  more  than  five-and-forty  years  ago, 
he  had  brought  the  young  wife  whose  love  had  turned 
his  heart  from  evil  ways  and  set  his  feet  upon  the 
better  path  from  which,  nearly  half  a  century,  they 
had  not  strayed. 

In  the  upper  front  room  his  only  son,  Edward,  had 
been  born;  and  from  the  door,  close  at  hand,  he  had 
followed  the  coffins  that  had  taken  away  from  him  the 
three  beings  about  whom,  successively,  the  tendrils  of 
his  affection  had  clung. 

First,  the  hand  of  death  had  closed  upon  his  wife; 
but,  profound  as  that  loss  had  been,  it  had  left  to  him 
his  son.  In  this  same  house,  that  son  had  grown  to 


AFTER  FIFTY  YEARS  95 

manhood,  and  had  himself  taken  a  wife;  and  so  for 
a  few  years  there  had  been  happiness  again. 

But  not  for  long.  The  birth  of  Hal,  the  old  man's 
grandson,  had  cost  the  life  of  Hal's  mother,  a 
daughter-in-law  whom  Captain  Briggs  had  loved  like 
his  own  flesh  and  blood ;  and,  two  years  after,  tragedy 
had  once  more  entered  Snug  Haven.  Edward  Briggs, 
on  his  first  voyage  as  master  of  a  ship  —  a  granite- 
schooner,  between  Rockport  and  Boston  —  had  fallen 
victim  of  a  breaking  derrick-rope.  The  granite  lintel 
that  had  crushed  the  body  of  the  old  captain's  son 
had  fallen  also  upon  the  captain's  heart.  Long  after 
the  grass  had  grown  upon  that  third  grave  in  the 
Briggs  burial  lot,  up  there  on  the  hill  overlooking  the 
shining  harbor,  the  old  man  had  lived  as  in  a  dream. 

Then,  gradually,  the  fingers  of  little  Hal,  fumbling 
at  the  latchets  of  the  old  man's  heart,  had  in  some 
miraculous  way  of  their  own  that  only  childish  fingers 
possess,  opened  that  crushed  and  broken  doorway; 
and  Hal  had  entered  in,  and  once  more  life  had  smiled 
upon  the  captain. 

After  even  the  last  leaves  of  autumn  have  fallen, 
sometimes  wonderful  days  still  for  a  little  while  warm 
the  dying  world  and  make  men  glad.  Thus,  with  the 
captain.  He  had  seemed  to  lose  everything;  and  yet, 
after  all,  Indian  summer  still  had  waited  for  him. 
In  the  declining  years,  Hal  had  become  his  sunshine 
and  his  warmth,  once  more  to  expand  his  soul,  once 
more  to  bid  him  love.  And  he  had  loved,  completely, 
blindly,  concentrating  upon  the  boy,  the  last  remain 
ing  hope  of  his  family,  an  affection  so  intense  that 
more  than  once  the  child,  hurt  by  the  fierce  grip  of 
the  old  man's  arms,  had  cried  aloud  in  pain  and 
fright.  Whereat  the  captain,  swiftly  penitent,  had 
kissed  and  fondled  him,  sung  brave  sea  chanteys  to 
him,  taught  him  wondrous  miracles  of  splicing  and 


96  CURSED 

weaving,  or  had  fashioned  boats  and  little  guns,  and  so 
had  brought  young  Hal  to  worship  him  as  a  child  will 
when  a  man  comes  to  his  plane  and  is  another,  larger 
child  with  him. 

Life  would  have  ceased  to  hold  any  purpose  or 
meaning  for  the  captain,  had  it  not  been  for  Hal.  The 
boy,  wonderfully  strong,  had  soon  begun  to  absorb 
so  much  of  the  captain's  affection  that  the  wounds 
in  his  heart  had  ceased  to  bleed,  and  that  his  pain 
had  given  place  to  a  kind  of  dumb  acquiescence.  And 
after  the  shock  of  the  final  loss  had  somewhat  passed 
life  had  taken  root  again,  in  Snug  Haven. 

Hal  had  thriven  mightily  in  the  sea  air.  Body  and 
mind,  he  had  developed  at  a  wonderful  pace.  He  had 
soon  grown  so  handsome  that  even  his  occasional 
childish  fits  of  temper  —  quite  extraordinary  fits,  of 
strange  violence,  though  brief  —  had  been  forgiven  by 
every  one.  He  had  needed  but  to  smile  to  be  absolved. 

Life  had  been,  for  the  boy,  all  "a  wonder  and  a 
wild  desire."  The  shadow  of  death  had  not  been  able 
to  darken  it.  Before  very  long  he  had  come  to  care 
little  for  any  human  relationship  save  with  his  grand 
father.  But  the  captain,  proud  of  race,  had  often 
spoken  to  him  of  his  father  and  his  mother,  or,  lead 
ing  Hal  by  the  hand,  had  trudged  up  the  well-worn 
path  to  the  cemetery  on  the  hill,  to  show  the  boy  the 
well-kept  graves. 

So  Hal  had  grown  up.  Shore  and  sea  and  sky  had 
all  combined  to  develop  him.  School  and  play,  and 
all  the  wonders  of  cliff,  beach,  tide,  and  storm,  of 
dories,  nets,  tackle,  ships,  and  sea-things  had  filled 
both  mind  and  body  with  unusual  vigor. 

The  captain  had  told  Hal  endless  tales  of  travel, 
had  taught  him  an  infinite  number  of  sea-marvels. 
Before  Hal  had  reached  ten  years,  he  had  come  to 
know  every  rope  and  spar  of  many  rigs. 


AFTER  FIFTY  YEARS  97 

At  twelve,  he  had  built  a  dory ;  and,  two  years  later 
•with  the  captain's  help,  a  catboat,  in  which  he  and 
the  old  man  had  sailed  in  all  weathers.  If  there  were 
any  tricks  of  navigation  that  the  boy  did  not  learn,  or 
anything  about  the  mysterious  doings  of  the  sea,  it 
was  only  because  the  captain  himself  fell  short  of 
complete  knowledge. 

In  everything  the  captain  had  indulged  him.  Yet 
even  though  he  had  never  inflicted  punishment,  and 
even  though  young  Hal  had  grown  up  to  have  pretty 
much  his  own  way,  the  captain  had  denied  spoiling 
him. 

"  Only  poor  material  will  spoil,"  he  had  always 
said.  "  You  can't  spoil  the  genuine,  thoroughbred 
stuff.  No,  nor  break  it,  either.  I  know  what  I'm 
doing.  Whose  business  is  it,  but  my  own?" 

Sharing  a  thousand  interests  in  common  with  Hal, 
the  captain's  love  and  hope  had  burned  ever  higher 
and  more  steadily.  As  the  violent  and  grief-stricken 
past  had  faded  gradually  into  a  vague  melancholy,  the 
future  had  seemed  beckoning  with  ever  clearer  cheer. 
The  captain  had  come  to  have  dreams  of  some  day 
seeing  Hal  master  of  the  biggest  ship  afloat.  He 
had  formed  a  hundred  plans  and  dreamed  a  thousand 
dreams,  all  more  or  less  enwoven  with  the  sea.  And 
though  Hal,  when  he  had  finished  school  and  had 
entered  college,  had  begun  to  show  strange  aptitude 
for  languages  —  especially  the  Oriental  tongues  — 
still  the  old  man  had  never  quite  abandoned  hope  that 
some  day  the  grandson  might  stand  as  captain  on  the 
bridge  of  a  tall  liner. 

For  many  years  another  influence  had  had  its  part 
in  molding  Hal  —  the  influence  of  Ezra  Trefethen, 
whereof  now  a  word  or  two.  Ezra,  good  soul,  had 
lived  at  Snug  Haven  ever  since  Hal's  birth,  less  as  a 
servant  than  as  a  member  of  the  household.  Once  he 


98  CURSED 

had  cooked  for  the  captain,  on  a  voyage  out  to  Japan. 
His  simple  philosophy  and  loyalty,  as  well  as  his  ex 
ceeding  skill  with  saucepans,  had  greatly  attached  the 
captain  to  him  —  this  being,  you  understand,  in  the 
period  after  the  captain's  marriage  had  made  of  him 
another  and  a  better  man. 

When  Hal's  mother  had  died,  the  captain  had  given 
Ezra  dominion  over  the  "  galley  "  at  Snug  Haven,  a 
dominion  which  had  gradually  extended  itself  to  the 
whole  house  and  garden,  and  even  to  the  upbringing 
of  the  boy. 

Together,  in  a  hit-or-miss  way  that  had  scandalized 
the  good  wives  of  South  Endicutt,  Briggs  and  Trefe- 
then  had  reared  little  Hal.  The  captain  had  given  no 
heed  to  hints  that  he  needed  a  house-keeper  or  a 
second  wife.  Trefethen  had  been  a  powerful  helper 
with  the  boy.  Deft  with  the  needle,  he  had  sewed 
for  Hal.  He  had  taught  him  to  keep  his  little  room  — 
his  little  "  first  mate's  cabin,"  as  he  had  always  called 
it  —  very  shipshape.  And  he  had  taught  him  sea  lore, 
too ;  and  at  times  when  the  captain  had  been  abroad  on 
the  great  waters,  had  taken  complete  charge  of  the 
fast-growing  lad. 

Thus  the  captain  had  been  ever  more  and  more 
warmly  drawn  towards  Ezra.  The  simple  old  fellow 
had  followed  the  body  of  the  captain's  son  up  there  to 
the  grave  on  the  hill,  and  had  wept  sincerely  in  the 
captain's  sorrow.  Together,  Briggs  and  Ezra  had 
kept  the  cemetery  lot  in  order.  Evenings  without 
number,  after  little  Hal  had  been  tucked  into  bed,  the 
two  ageing  men  had  sat  and  smoked  together. 

Almost  as  partners  in  a  wondrous  enterprise,  they 
*two  had  watched  Hal  grow.  Ezra  had  been  just  as 
proud  as  the  captain  himself,  when  the  sturdy,  black- 
haired,  blue-eyed  boy  had  entered  high  school  and 
had  won  his  place  at  football  and  on  the  running- 


AFTER  FIFTY  YEARS  99 

track.  When  "  Hal  "  had  become  "  Master  Hal,"  for 
him,  on  the  boy's  entering  college,  the  old  servitor 
had  come  to  look  upon  him  with  something  of  awe, 
for  now  Hal's  studies  had  lifted  him  beyond  all  pos 
sible  understanding.  Old  Ezra  had  thrilled  with  pride 
as  real  and  as  proprietary  as  any  Captain  Briggs  had 
felt. 

Thus,  the  beloved  idol  of  the  two  indulgent  old  sea- 
dogs,  Hal  had  grown  up. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A   VISITOR   FROM   THE   LONG   AGO 

As  the  captain  sat  there  expectantly  on  the  piazza, 
telescope  across  his  knees,  dog  by  his  side,  a  step 
sounded  in  the  hallway  of  Snug  Haven,  and  out  is 
sued  Ezra,  blinking  in  the  sunshine,  screwing  up  his 
leathery,  shrewd,  humorous  face,  and  from  under  a 
thin  palm  squinting  across  the  harbor. 

"  Ain't  sighted  him  yit,  cap'n?  "  demanded  he,  in  a 
cracked  voice.  "  It's  past  six  bells  o'  the  aft'noon 
watch.  You'd  oughta  be  sightin'  him  pretty  soon, 
now,  seems  like." 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  the  captain  answered.  "  He 
wrote  they'd  leave  Boston  this  morning  early.  Seems 
as  if  they  should  have  made  Endicutt  Harbor  by  now." 

"  Right,  cap'n.  But  don't  you  worry  none.  They 
can't  of  fell  foul  o'  nothin'.  Master  Hall,  he's  an  Ai 
man.  He'll  make  port  afore  night,  cap'n,  never  you 
fear.  He's  gotta!  Ain't  I  got  a  leg  o'  lamb  on  to 
roast,  an'  ain't  I  made  his  favor-ite  plum-cake  with 
butter-an'-sugar  sauce?  Aye,  he'll  tie  up  at  Snug 
Haven  afore  sundown,  never  you  fear!  " 

The  captain  only  grunted;  and  old  Trefethen,  after 
careful  but  fruitless  examination  of  the  harbor,  went 
back  into  the  house  again,  very  much  like  those  figures 
on  toy  barometers  that  come  out  in  good  weather  and 
retire  in  bad. 

Left  alone  once  more,  the  captain  drew  deeply  at 
his  pipe  and  glanced  with  satisfaction  at  his  cozy  do 
main.  A  pleasant  place  it  was,  indeed,  and  trimly 
eloquent  of  the  hand  of  an  old  sea-faring  man.  The 

100 


A  VISITOR  FROM  THE  LONG  AGO     101 

precision  wherewith  the  hedge  was  cut,  the  white 
washed  spotlessness  of  the  front  gate  —  a  gate  on 
the  "  port "  post  of  which  was  fastened  a  red  ship's- 
lantern,  with  a  green  one  on  the  "  starboard  " —  and 
even  the  sanded  walks,  edged  with  conch-shells,  all 
spelled  "  shipshape." 

Trailing  woodbine  covered  the  fences  to  right  and 
left,  and  along  these  fences  grew  thrifty  berry  bushes. 
Apple-trees,  whereon  green  buttons  of  fruit  had  al 
ready  set,  shaded  the  la\yn,  interspersed  with  flower 
beds  edged  with  whitewashed  rocks  —  flower-beds 
bright  with  hollyhocks,  peonies  and  poppies. 

Back  of  the  house  a  vegetable-garden  gave  promise 
of  great  increase;  and  in  the  hen-yard  White  Leg 
horns  and  Buff  Orpingtons  pursued  the  vocations  of 
all  well-disposed  poultry.  A  Holstein  cow,  knee- 
deep  in  daisies  on  the  gentle  hill-slope  behind  Snug 
Haven,  formed  part  of  the  household;  and  last  of  all 
came  the  bees,  denizens  of  six  hives  not  far  from 
the  elm-shaded  well. 

But  the  captain's  special  pride  centered  in  the  gleam 
ing  white  flagpole,  planted  midway  of  the  front  lawn 
•• —  a  pole  from  which  flew  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  to 
gether  with  a  big  blue  house-flag  bearing  a  huge  "  B  " 
of  spotless  white.  This  flag  and  a  little  cannon  of 
gleaming  brass,  from  which  on  every  holiday  the  cap 
tain  fired  a  salute,  formed  his  chief  treasures;  by 
which  token  you  shall  read  the  heart  of  the  old  man, 
and  see  that,  for  all  his  faring  up  and  down  the  world, 
a  certain  curious  simplicity  had  at  the  end  developed 
itself  in  him. 

Thus  that  June  afternoon,  sitting  in  state  amid  his 
possessions,  the  captain  waited.  Waited,  dressed  in 
his  very  best,  for  the  homecoming  of  the  boy  on 
whom  was  concentrated  all  the  affection  of  a  nature 
now  powerful  to  love,  as  in  the  old  and  evil  days  it 


102  CURSED 

had  been  violent  to  hate.  His  face,  as  he  sat  there, 
was  virile,  patriarchal,  dignified  with  that  calm  no 
bility  of  days  when  old  age  is  "  frosty  but  kindly." 

With  placid  interest  he  watched  a  robin  on  the 
lawn,  and  listened  to  the  chickadees'  piping  monotone 
in  the  huge  maple  by  the  gate.  Those  notes  seemed 
to  blend  with  the  metallic  music  of  hammer  and  anvil 
somewhere  down  the  village  street.  Tunk-tunk! 
Clink-clank-clink!  sang  the  hammer  from  the  shop  of 
Peter  Trumett,  as  Peter  forged  new  links  for  the 
anchor-chain  of  the  Lucy  Bell,  now  in  port  for  re 
pairs.  Then  a  voice,  greeting  the  captain  from  the 
rock-nubbled  roadway,  drew  the  old  man's  gaze. 

"How  do,  cap'n?"  called  a  man  from  the  top  of 
a  slow-moving  load  of  kelp.  "  I'm  goin'  up-along. 
Anythin'  I  kin  do  fer  you?  " 

"  Nothing,  Jacob,"  answered  Briggs.  "  Thank  you, 
just  the  same.  Oh,  Jacob!  Wait  a  minute!  " 

"  Hoa,  s-h-h-h-h! "  commanded  the  kelp-gatherer. 
"What  is  it,  cap'n?" 

The  old  man  arose,  placed  his  telescope  carefully 
in  the  rocking-chair,  and  slowly  walked  down  toward 
the  gate.  The  Airedale  followed  close.  The  dog's 
rusty-brown  muzzle  touched  the  captain's  hand. 
Briggs  fondled  the  animal  and  smiling  said: 

"  I'm  not  going  to  leave  you,  Ruddy.  None  of  us 
can  go  anywhere  to-day.  Hal's  coming  home. 
Know  that  ?  We  mustn't  be  away  when  he  comes !  " 

The  captain  advanced  once  more.  Half-way  down 
the  walk  he  paused,  picked  up  a  snail  that  had  crawled 
out  upon  the  distressful  sand.  He  dropped  the  snail 
into  the  sheltering  grass  and  went  forward  again. 
At  the  gate  he  stopped,  leaned  his  crossed  arms  on  the 
clean  top-board,  and  for  a  moment  peered  at  Jacob 
perched  on  the  load  of  kelp  that  overflowed  the  time- 
•worn,  two-wheeled  cart. 


A  VISITOR  FROM  THE  LONG  AGO      103 

"What  is  it,  cap'n?"  Jacob  queried.  "  Somethin' 
I  kin  do  fer  you?  " 

"  No,  nothing  you  can  do  for  me,  but  something 
you  can  do  for  Uncle  Everett  and  for  yourself,  if  you 
will." 

At  sound  of  that  name  the  kelp-gatherer  stiffened 
with  sudden  resentment. 

"  Nothin'  fer  him,  cap'n !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  He's 
been  accommodatin'  as  a  hog  on  ice  to  me,  an'  the 
case  is  goin'  through.  Nothin'  at  all  fer  that 
damned  — " 

"  Wait !  Hold  on,  Jacob !  "  the  old  man  pleaded, 
raising  his  hand.  "  You  can't  gain  anything  by  vio 
lence  and  hate.  I  know  you  think  he's  injured  you 
grievously.  He  thinks  the  same  of  you.  In  his  heart 
I  know  he's  sorry.  You  and  he  were  friends  for 
thirty  years  till  this  petty  little  quarrel  came  up. 
Jacob,  is  the  whole  boat  worth  cutting  the  cables  of 
good  understanding  and  letting  yourselves  drift  on 
the  reefs  of  hate?  Is  it,  now?  " 

"  You  been  talkin'  with  him  'bout  me?  "  demanded 
Jacob  irefully. 

"  Well,  maybe  I  have  said  a  few  words  to  Uncle 
Everett,"  admitted  the  captain.  "  Uncle's  willing  to 
go  half-way  to  meet  you." 

"  He'll  meet  me  nowheres  'cept  in  the  court-room 
down  to  'Sconset!"  retorted  Jacob  with  heat.  "He 
done  me  a  smart  trick  that  time.  I'll  rimrack  him!" 

"  We've  all  done  smart  tricks  one  time  or  another," 
soothed  the  old  captain.  The  sun  through  the  arch 
ing  elms  flecked  his  white  hair  with  moving  bits  of 
light;  it  narrowed  the  keen,  earnest  eyes  of  blue. 
"  That's  human.  It's  better  than  human  to  be  sorry 
and  to  make  peace  with  your  neighbor.  Uncle 
Everett's  not  a  bad  man  at  heart,  any  more  than  you 
are.  Half  a  dozen  words  from  you  would  caulk  up 


104  CURSED 

the  leaking  hull  of  your  friendship.  You're  not  go 
ing  to  go  on  hating  uncle,  are  you,  when  you  could 
shake  hands  with  him  and  be  friends  ?  " 

"  Oh,  ain't  I,  huh  ?  "  demanded  Jacob.  "  Why  ain't 
I?" 

"  Because  you're  a  man  and  can  think !  "  the  cap 
tain  smiled.  "  Harkness  and  Bill  Dodge  were  bitter 
as  gall  six  months  ago,  and  Giles  was  ready  to  cut 
Burnett's  heart  out,  but  I  found  they  were  human, 
after  all." 

"  Yes,  but  they  ain't  me! " 

"  Are  you  less  a  man  than  they  were  ?  " 

"  H-m !  H-m !  "  grunted  Jacob,  floored.  "  I  —  I 
reckon  not.  Why?" 

"  I've  got  nothing  more  to  say  for  now,"  the  cap 
tain  answered.  "  Good-by,  Jacob !  " 

The  kelp-gatherer  pushed  back  his  straw  hat, 
scratched  his  head,  spat,  and  then  broke  out : 

"  Mebbe  it'd  be  cheaper,  after  all,  to  settle  out  o' 
court  rather  'n'  to  law  uncle.  But  shakin'  hands,  an' 
bein'  neighbors  with  that  —  that  — " 

"Good  day,  Jacob!"  the  captain  repeated.  "One 
thing  at  a  time.  And  if  you  come  up-along  to 
morrow,  lay  alongside,  and  have  another  gam  with 
me,  will  you?  " 

To  this  Jacob  made  no  answer,  but  slapped  his  reins 
on  the  lean  withers  of  his  horse.  Creakingly  the  load 
of  seaweed  moved  away,  with  Jacob  atop,  rather 
dazed.  The  captain  remained  there  at  the  gate,  peer 
ing  after  him  with  a  smile,  kindly  yet  shrewd. 

"  Just  like  the  others,"  he  murmured.  "  Can't  make 
port  all  on  one  tack.  Got  to  watch  the  wind,  and 
wear  about  and  make  it  when  you  can.  But  if  I  know 
human  nature,  a  month  from  to-day  Jacob  Plummer 
will  be  smoking  his  pipe  down  at  Uncle  Everett's  sail- 
loft." 


A  VISITOR  FROM  THE  LONG  AGO     105 

The  sound  of  piping  voices,  beyond  the  blacksmith- 
shop,  drew  the  old  captain's  attention  thither.  He  as 
sumed  a  certain  expectancy.  Into  the  pocket  of  his 
sqirare-cut  blue  jacket  he  slid  a  hand.  Along  the  street 
he  peered  —  the  narrow,  rambling  street  sheltered  by 
great  elms  through  which,  here  and  there,  a  glint"  of 
sunlit  harbor  shimmered  blue. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait.  Round  the  bend  by  the 
smithy  two  or  three  children  appeared ;  and  after  these 
came  others,  with  a  bright-haired  girl  of  twenty  or 
thereabout.  The  children  had  school-bags  or  bundles 
of  books  tightly  strapped.  Keeping  pace  with  the 
teacher  a  little  girl  on  either  side  held  her  hands.  You 
could  not  fail  to  see  the  teacher's  smile,  as  wholesome, 
fresh  and  winning  as  that  June  day  itself. 

At  sight  of  the  captain  the  boys  in  the  group  set 
up  a  joyful  shout  and  some  broke  into  a  run. 

"  Hey,  lookit !  There's  cap'n !  "  rose  exultant  cries. 
"There's  Cap'n  Briggs!" 

Then  the  little  girls  came  running,  too;  and  all  the 
children  captured  him  by  storm.  Excited,  the  Aire 
dale  set  up  a  clamorous  barking. 

The  riot  ended  only  when  the  captain  had  been 
despoiled  of  the  peppermints  he  had  provided  for 
such  contingencies.  Meanwhile  the  teacher,  as  trimly 
pretty  a  figure  as  you  could  meet  in  many  a  day's 
journeying,  was  standing  by  the  gate,  and  with  a 
little  heightened  flush  of  color  was  casting  a  look  or 
two,  as  of  expectancy,  up  at  Snug  Haven. 

The  old  captain,  smiling,  shook  his  head. 

"  Not  yet,  Laura,"  he  whispered.  "  He'll  be  here 
before  night,  though.  You're  going  to  let  me  keep 
him  a  few  minutes,  aren't  you,  before  taking  him 
away  from  me?  " 

She  found  no  answer.  Something  about  the  cap 
tain's  smile  seemed  to  disconcert  her.  A  warm  flush 


io6  CURSED 

crept  from  her  throat  to  her  thickly  coiled,  lustrous 
hair.  Then  she  passed  on,  down  the  shaded  street; 
and  as  the  captain  peered  after  her,  still  surrounded 
by  the  children,  a  little  moisture  blurred  his  eyes. 

"  God  has  been  very  good  to  me  in  spite  of  all !  "  he 
murmured.  "  Very,  very  good,  and  '  the  best  is  yet 
to  be ' !  " 

He  turned  and  was  about  to  start  back  toward  the 
house  when  the  cloppa-doppa-clop  of  hoofs  along  the 
street  arrested  his  attention.  Coming  into  view,  past 
Laura  and  her  group  of  scholars,  an  old-fashioned 
buggy,  drawn  by  a  horse  of  ripe  years,  was  bearing 
down  toward  Snug  Haven. 

In  the  buggy  sat  an  old,  old  man,  wizen  and  bent. 
With  an  effort  he  reined  in  the  aged  horse.  The  cap 
tain  heard  his  cracked  tones  on  the  still  afternoon  air: 

"  Pardon  me,  but  can  you  tell  me  where  Captain 
(Briggs  lives  —  Captain  Alpheus  Briggs  ?  " 

A  babel  of  childish  voices  and  the  pointing  of  nu 
merous  fingers  obliterated  any  information  Laura 
tried  to  give.  The  old  man,  with  thanks,  clucked  to 
his  horse,  and  so  the  buggy  came  along  once  more  to 
the  front  gate  of  Snug  Haven.  There  it  stopped. 

Out  of  it  bent  a  feeble,  shrunken  figure,  with  flaccid 
skin  on  deep-lined  face,  with  blinking  eyes  behind  big 
spectacles. 

"  Is  that  you,  captain  ?  "  asked  a  shaking  voice  that 
pierced  to  the  captain's  heart  with  a  stab  of  poignant 
recollection.  "  Oh,  Captain  —  Captain  Brigg"s  —  is 
that  you?" 

The  captain,  turning  pale,  steadied  himself  by  grip 
ping  at  the  whitewashed  gate.  For  a  moment  his  star 
ing  eyes  met  the  eyes  of  the  old,  withered  man  in  the 
buggy.  Then,  in  strange,  husky  tones  he  cried : 

"God  above!  It  —  it  can't  be  you,  doctor?  It 
can't  be  — Dr.  Filhiol?" 


CHAPTER  XV 

TWO   OLD   MEN 

"  Yes,  yes,  it's  Dr.  Filhiol !  "  the  little  old  man  made 
answer.  "I'm  Filhiol.  And  you —  Yes,  I'd  know 
you  anywhere.  Captain  Alpheus  Briggs,  so  help 
me!" 

He  took  up  a  heavy  walking-stick,  and  started  to 
clamber  down  out  of  the  buggy.  Captain  Briggs, 
flinging  open  the  gate,  reached  him  just  in  time  to 
keep  him  from  collapsing  in  the  road,  for  the  doctor's 
feeble  strength  was  all  exhausted  with  the  long  journey 
he  had  made'  to  South  .Endicutt,  with  the  drive  from 
the  station  five  miles  away,  and  with  the  nervous  shock 
of  once  more  seeing  a  man  on  whom,  in  fifty  years, 
his  eyes  had  never  rested. 

"  Steady,  doctor,  steady !  "  the  captain  admonished 
with  a  stout  arm  about  him.  "  There,  there  now, 
steady  does  it !  " 

"  You  —  you'll  have  to  excuse  me,  captain,  for 
seeming  so  unmanly  weak,"  the  doctor  proffered  shak 
ily.  "  But  I've  come  a  long  way  to  see  you,  and 
it's  such  a  hot  day  —  and  all.  My  legs  are  cramped, 
too.  I'm  not  what  I  used  to  be,  captain.  None  of 
us  are,  you  know,  when  we  pass  the  eightieth  mile 
stone  !  " 

"  None  of  us  are  what  we  used  to  be ;  right  for 
you,  doctor,"  the  captain  answered  with  deeper  mean 
ing  than  on  the  surface  of  his  words  appeared.  "  You 
needn't  apologize  for  being  a  bit  racked  in  the  hull. 

107 


io8  CURSED 

Every  craft's  seams  open  up  a  bit  at  times.  I  under 
stand." 

He  tightened  his  arm  about  the  shrunken  body,  and 
with  compassion  looked  upon  the  man  who  once  had 
trod  his  deck  so  strongly  and  so  well.  "  Come  along 
o'  me,  now.  Up  to  Snug  Haven,  doctor.  There's 
good  rocking-chairs  on  the  piazza,  and  a  good  little 
drop  of  something  to  take  the  kinks  out.  The  best 
of  timber  needs  a  little  caulking  now  and  then.  Good 
Lord  above!  Dr.  Filhiol  again  —  after  fifty  years!" 

"  Yes,  that's  correct  —  after  fifty  years,"  the  doctor 
answered.  "  Here,  let  me  look  at  you  a  moment ! " 
He  peered  at  Briggs  through  his  heavy-lensed  spec 
tacles.  "  It's  you  all  right,  captain.  You've  changed, 
of  course.  You  were  a  bull  of  a  man  in  those  days, 
and  your  hair  was  black  as  black ;  —  but  still  you're 
the  same.  I  —  well,  I  wish  I  could  say  that  about 
myself!" 

"  Nonsense !  "  the  captain  boomed,  drawing  him  to 
ward  the  gate.  "  Wait  till  you've  got  a  little  tonic 
under  your  hatches,  'midships.  Wait  till  you've 
spliced  the  main  brace  a  couple  of  times !  " 

"  The  Horse !  "  exclaimed  Filhiol,  bracing  himself 
with  his  stout  cane.  He  peered  anxiously  at  the  ani 
mal.  "  I  hired  him  at  the  station,  and  if  he  should 
run  away  and  break  anything — " 

"  I'll  have  Ezra  go  aboard  that  craft  and  pilot  it 
into  port,"  the  captain  reassured  him.  "  We  won't  let 
it  go  on  the  rocks.  Ezra,  he's  my  chief  cook  and 
bottle-washer.  He  can  handle  that  cruiser  of  yours 
O.  K."  The  captain's  eyes  twinkled  as  he  looked 
at  the  dejected  animal.  "  Come  along  o'  me,  doctor. 
Up  to  the  quarter-deck  with  you,  now !  " 

Half -supported  by  the  captain,  old  Dr.  Filhiol 
limped  up  the  white-sanded  path.  As  he  went,  as 
if  in  a  kind  of  daze  he  kept  murmuring: 


TWO  OLD  MEN  109 

"  Captain  Briggs  again !  Who'd  have  thought  I 
could  really  find  him?  Half  a  century  —  a  litetime 
—  Captain  Alpheus  Briggs !  " 

"Ezra!  Oh,  Ezra!"  the  captain  hailed.  Care 
fully  he  helped  the  aged  doctor  up  the  steps.  Very 
feebly  the  doctor  crept  up ;  his  cane  clumped  hollowly 
on  the  boards.  Ezra  appeared. 

"Aye,  aye,  sir?"  he  queried,  a  look  of  wonder  on 
his  long,  thin  face.  "What's  orders,  sir?" 

"  An  old-time  friend  of  mine  has  come  to  visit 
me,  Ezra.  It's  Dr.  Filhiol,  that  used  to  sail  with 
me,  way  back  in  the  '6o's.  I've  got  some  of  his 
fancy-work  stitches  in  my  leg  this  minute.  A  great 
man  he  was  with  the  cutting  and  stitching;  none  bet 
ter.  I  want  you  men  to  shake  hands." 

Ezra  advanced,  admiration  shining  from  his  honest 
features.  Any  man  who  had  been  a  friend  of  his 
captain,  especially  a  man  who  had  embroidered  his 
captain's  leg,  was  already  taken  to  the  bosom  of  his 
affections. 

"  Doctor,"  said  the  captain,  "  this  is  Ezra  Trefethen. 
When  you  get  some  of  the  grub  from  his  galley  aboard 
you,  you'll  be  ready  to  ship  again  for  Timbuctoo." 

"I'm  very  glad  to  know  you,  Ezra,"  the  doctor 
said,  putting  out  his  left  hand  —  the  right,  gnarled 
and  veinous,  still  gripped  his  cane.  '  Yes,  yes,  we 
were  old-time  shipmates,  Captain  Briggs  and  I."  His 
voice  broke  pipingly,  "  turning  again  toward  childish 
treble,"  so  that  pity  and  sorrow  pierced  the  heart  of 
Alpheus  Briggs.  "  It's  been  a  sad,  long  time  since 
we've  met.  And  now,  can  I  get  you  to  look  out  for 
my  horse?  If  he  should  run  away  and  hurt  anybody, 
I'm  sure  that  would  be  very  bad." 

"  Righto !  "  Ezra  answered,  his  face  assuming  an 
air  of  high  seriousness  as  he  observed  the  aged  animal 
half  asleep  by  the  gate,  head  hanging,  spavined  knees 


no  CURSED 

bent.  "  I'll  steer  him  to  safe  moorin's  fer  you,  sir. 
We  got  jest  the  handiest  dock  in  the  world  fer  him, 
up  the  back  lane.  He  won't  git  away  from  me,  sir, 
never  you  fear." 

"  Thank  you,  Ezra,"  the  doctor  answered,  much  re 
lieved.  The  captain  eased  him  into  a  rocker,  by  the 
table.  "  There,  that's  better.  You  see,  captain,  I'm  a 
bit  done  up.  It  always  tires  me  to  ride  on  a  train; 
and  then,  too,  the  drive  from  the  station  was  ex 
hausting.  I'm  not  used  to  driving,  you  know,  and  — " 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  Briggs  interrupted.  "  Just  sit 
you  there,  doctor,  and  keep  right  still.  I'll  be  back 
in  half  a  twinkling." 

And,  satisfied  that  the  doctor  was  all  safe  and  sound, 
he  stumped  into  the  house;  while  Ezra  whistled  to 
the  dog  and  strode  away  to  go  aboard  the  buggy  as 
navigating  officer  of  that  sorry  equipage. 

Even  before  Ezra  had  safely  berthed  the  horse 
in  the  stable  up  the  lane,  bordered  with  sweetbrier  and 
sumacs,  Captain  Briggs  returned  with  a  tray,  whereon 
was  a  bottle  of  his  very  best  Jamaica,  now  kept  ex 
clusively  for  sickness  or  a  cold,  or,  it  might  be,  for 
some  rare  and  special  guest.  The  Jamaica  was  flanked 
with  a  little  jug  of  water,  with  glasses,  lemons,  sugar. 
At  sight  of  it  the  doctor  left  off  brushing  his  coat,  all 
powdered  with  the  gray  rock-dust  of  the  Massachu 
setts  north  shore,  and  smiled  with  sunken  lips. 

"  I  couldn't  have  prescribed  better,  myself,"  said 
he. 

"  Correct,  sir,"  agreed  the  captain.  He  set  the 
tray  on  the  piazza,  table.  "  I  don't  hardly  ever  touch 
grog  any  more.  But  it's  got  its  uses,  now  and  then. 
You  need  a  stiff  drink,  doctor,  and  I'm  going  to  join 
you,  for  old  times'  sake.  Surely  there's  no  sin  in  that, 
after  half  a  century  that  we  haven't  laid  eyes  on  one 
another ! " 


TWO  OLD  MEN  in 

Speaking,  he  was  at  work  6n  the  manufacture  of  a 
brace  of  drinks. 

"  It's  my  rule  not  to  touch  it,"  he  added.  "  But  I've 
got  to  make  an  exception  to-day.  Sugar,  sir? 
Lemon?  All  O.  K.,  then.  Well,  doctor,  here  goes. 
Here's  to  — to— " 

"  To  fifty  years  of  life !  "  the  doctor  exclaimed.  He 
stood  up,  raising  the  glass  that  Briggs  had  given  him. 
His  eye  cleared;  for  a  moment  his  aged  hand  held 
firm. 

"  To  fifty  years !  "  the  captain  echoed.  And  so  the 
glasses  clinked,  and  so  they  drank  that  toast,  bot- 
toms-up,  those  two  old  men  so  different  in  the  long 
ago,  so  very  different  now. 

When  Filhiol  had  resumed  his  seat,  the  captain 
drew  a  chair  up  close  to  him,  both  facing  the  sea. 
Through  the  doctor's  spent  tissues  a  little  warmth 
began  to  diffuse  itself.  But  still  he  found  nothing  to 
say;  nor,  for  a  minute  or  two,  did  the  captain.  A 
little  silence,  strangely  awkward,  drew  itself  between 
them,  now  that  the  first  stimulus  of  the  meeting  had 
spent  itself.  Where,  indeed,  should  they  begin  to  knit 
up  so  vast  a  chasm? 

Each  man  gazed  on  the  other,  trying  to  find  some 
word  that  might  be  fitting,  but  each  muted  by  the 
dead  weight  of  half  a  century.  Filhiol,  the  more  re 
sourceful  of  wit,  was  first  to  speak. 

"  Yes,  captain,  we've  both  changed,  though  you've 
held  your  own  better  than  I  have.  I've  had  a  great 
deal  of  sickness.  And  I'm  an  older  man  than  you, 
besides.  I'll  be  eighty-four,  sir,  if  I  live  till  the  i6th 
of  next  October.  A  man's  done  for  at  that  age. 
And  you've  had  every  advantage  over  me  in  strength 
and  constitution.  I  was  only  an  average  man,  at 
best.  You  were  a  Hercules,  and  even  to-day  you  look 
as  if  you  might  be  a  pretty  formidable  antagonist. 


ii2  CURSED 

In  a  way,  I've  done  better  than  most,  captain.  Yes, 
I've  done  well  in  my  way,"  he  repeated.  "  Still,  I'm 
not  the  man  you  are  to-day.  That's  plain  to  be  seen." 

"  We  aren't  going  to  talk  about  that,  doctor,"  the 
captain  interposed,  his  voice  soothing,  as  he  laid  a 
strong  hand  on  the  withered  one  of  Filhiol,  holding  the 
arm  of  the  rocker.  "  Let  all  that  pass.  I'm  laying 
at  anchor  in  a  sheltered  harbor  here.  What  breeze 
bore  you  news  of  me?  Tell  me  that,  and  tell  me 
what  you've  been  doing  all  this  time.  What  kind 
of  a  voyage  have  you  made  of  life?  And  where  are 
you  berthed,  and  what  cargo  of  this  world's  goods 
have  you  got  in  your  lockers  ?  " 

"  Tell  me  about  yourself,  first,  captain.  You  have 
a  jewel  of  a  place  here.  What  else?  Wife,  family, 
all  that?" 

"  I'll  tell  you,  after  you've  answered  my  questions," 
the  captain  insisted.  "  You're  aboard  my  craft,  here, 
sitting  on  my  decks,  and  so  you've  got  to  talk  first. 
Come,  come,  doctor  —  let's  have  your  log !  " 

Thus  urged,  Filhiol  began  to  speak.  With  some 
digressions,  yet  in  the  main  clearly  enough  and  even 
at  times  with  a  certain  dry  humor  that  distantly  re 
called  his  mental  acuity  of  the  long  ago,  he  outlined 
his  life-story. 

Briefly  he  told  of  his  retirement  from  the  sea,  fol 
lowing  a  wreck  off  the  coast  of  Chile,  in  1876  —  a 
wreck  in  which  he  had  taken  damage  from  which  he 
had  never  fully  recovered  —  and  narrated  his  estab 
lishing  himself  in  practice  in  New  York.  Later  he 
had  had  to  give  up  the  struggle  there,  and  had  gone 
up  into  a  New  Hampshire  village,  where  life,  though 
poor,  had  been  comparatively  easy. 

Five  years  ago  he  had  retired,  with  a  few  hundred 
dollars  of  pitiful  savings,  and  had  bought  his  way  into 
the  Physicians'  and  Surgeons'  Home,  at  Salem,  Massa- 


TWO  OLD  MEN  113 

chusetts.  He  had  never  married;  had  never  known 
the  love  of  a  wife,  nor  the  kiss  of  children.  His 
whole  life,  the  captain  could  see,  had  been  given  un 
hesitatingly  to  the  service  of  his  fellow-men.  And 
now  mankind,  when  old  age  had  paralyzed  his  skill, 
was  passing  him  by,  as  if  he  had  been  no  more  than 
a  broken-up  wreck  on  the  shores  of  the  sea  of  human 
existence. 

Briggs  watched  the  old  man  with  pity  that  this 
once  trim  and  active  man  should  have  faded  to  so 
bloodless  a  shadow  of  his  former  self.  Close-shaven 
the  doctor  still  was,  and  not  without  a  certain  neat 
ness  in  his  dress,  despite  its  poverty;  but  his  bent 
shoulders,  his  baggy  skin,  the  blinking  of  his  eyes 
all  told  the  tragedy  of  life  that  fades. 

With  a  pathetic  moistening  of  the  eyes,  the  doctor 
spoke  of  this  inevitable  decay;  and  with  a  heartfelt 
wish  that  death  might  have  laid  its  summons  on  him 
while  still  in  active  service,  turned  to  a  few  words 
of  explanation  as  to  how  he  had  come  to  have  news 
again  of  Captain  Briggs. 

Chance  had  brought  him  word  of  the  captain.  A 
new  attendant  at  the  home  had  mentioned  the  name 
Briggs;  and  memories  had  stirred,  and  questions  had 
very  soon  brought  out  the  fact  that  it  was  really  Cap 
tain  Alpheus  Briggs,  who  now  was  living  at  South 
Endicutt.  The  attendant  had  told  him  something 
more  —  and  here  the  doctor  hesitated,  feeling  for 
words. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  understand,"  said  Briggs.  "  You 
needn't  be  afraid  to  speak  it  right  out.  It's  true, 
doctor.  I  have  changed.  God  knows  I've  suffered 
enough,  these  long  years,  trying  to  forget  what  kind 
of  a  man  I  started  out  to  be ;  trying  to  forget,  and 
not  always  able  to.  If  repentance  and  trying  to  sail 
a  straight  course  now  can  wipe  out  that  score,  maybe 


ii4  CURSED 

it's  partly  gone.  I  hope  so,  anyhow;  I've  done  my 
best  —  no  man  can  do  more  than  that,  now,  can  he?  " 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  can,"  answered  the  doctor 
slowly. 

"  He  can't,"  said  the  captain  with  conviction.  "Of 
course  I  can't  give  back  the  lives  I  took,  but  so  far  as 
I've  been  able,  I've  made  restitution  of  all  the  money 
I  came  by  wrongfully.  What  I  couldn't  give  back 
directly  I've  handed  over  to  charity. 

"  My  undoing,"  he  went  on,  then  paused,  irresolute. 
"My  great  misfortune  —  was — " 

"Well,  what?"  asked  Filhiol.  And  through  his 
glasses,  which  seemed  to  make  his  eyes  so  strangely 
big  and  questioning,  he  peered  at  Captain  Briggs. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   CAPTAIN    SPEAKS 

The  captain  clenched  his  right  fist,  and  turned  it  to 
and  fro,  studying  it  with  rueful  attention. 

"  My  undoing  was  the  fact  that  nature  gave  me 
brute  strength,"  said  he.  "  Those  were  hard,  bad 
days,  and  I  had  a  hard,  bad  fist ;  and  together  with  the 
hot  blood  in  me,  and  the  Old  Nick,  things  went  pretty 
far.  Lots  of  the  things  I  did  were  needless,  cruel, 
and  beyond  all  condemnation.  If  I  could  only  get  a 
little  of  the  guilt  and  sorrow  off  my  mind,  that  would 
be  something." 

"  You're  morbid,  captain,"  answered  Filhiol. 
"  You've  made  all  the  amends  that  anybody  can. 
Let's  forget  the  wickedness,  now,  and  try  to  remember 
the  better  part.  You've  changed,  every  way.  What 
changed  you?  " 

"  Just  let  me  have  another  look  through  the  glass, 
and  I'll  tell  you  what  I  can." 

Briggs  raised  his  telescope  and  with  it  swept  the 
harbor. 

"H-m!"  said  he.     "Nothing  yet." 

"  Expecting  some  one,  captain  ?  " 

"  My  grandson,  Hal." 

"Grandson!     That's   fine!     The   only  one?" 

"  The  only  one."  Briggs  lowered  his  glass  with 
disappointment.  "  He's  the  sole  surviving  member 
of  the  family,  beside  myself.  All  the  rest  are  up 
there,  doctor,  in  that  little  cemetery  on  the  hilltop." 

Filhiol's  eyes  followed  the  captain's  pointing  hand, 

"5 


n6  CURSED 

as  it  indicated  the  burial-ground  lying  under  the  va 
grant  cloud-shadows  of  the  fading  afternoon,  peace 
ful  and  "  sweet  with  blade  and  leaf  and  blossom." 
In  a  pine  against  the  richly  luminous  sky  a  blue  jay 
was  scolding.  As  a  contrabass  to  the  rhythm  of  the 
blacksmith's  hammer,  the  booming  murmur  of  the  sea 
trembled  across  the  summer  air.  The  captain  went 
on: 

"  I've  had  great  losses,  doctor.  Bitter  and  hard 
to  bear.  After  I  fell  in  love  and  changed  my  way  of 
life,  and  married  and  settled  here,  I  thought  maybe 
fate  would  be  kind  to  me,  but  it  wasn't.  One  by  one 
my  people  were  taken  away  from  me  —  my  wife,  and 
then  my  son's  wife,  and  last  of  all,  my  son.  Three, 
I've  lost,  and  got  one  left.  Yet  it  isn't  exactly  as 
if  I'd  really  lost  them.  I'm  not  one  that  can  bury 
love,  and  forget  it.  My  folks  aren't  gone.  They're 
still  with  me,  in  a  way. 

"  I  don't  see  how  people  can  let  their  kin  be  buried 
in  strange  places  and  forgotten.  I  want  to  keep  mine 
always  near  me,  where  I  can  look  out  for  them,  and 
where  I  know  they  won't  feel  lonesome.  I  want  them 
to  be  right  near  home,  doctor,  where  it's  all  so  friendly 
and  familiar.  Maybe  that's  an  old  man's  foolish  no 
tion,  but  that's  the  way  I  feel,  and  that's  the  way  I've 
had  it." 

"I  —  think  I  understand,"  the  doctor  answered. 
"  Go  on." 

"  They  aren't  really  gone,"  continued  Briggs. 
"  They're  still  up  there,  very,  very  near  to  me.  There's 
nothing  mournful  in  the  lot;  nothing  sad  or  melan 
choly.  No,  Ezra  and  I  have  made  it  cheerful,  with 
roses  and  petunias  and  zinnias  and  all  kinds  of  pretty 
flowers  and  bushes  and  vines.  You  can  see  some  of 
those  vines  now  on  the  monument."  He  pointed 
once  more.  "  That  one,  off  to  starboard  of  the  big 


THE  CAPTAIN  SPEAKS  117 

elm.  It's  a  beautiful  place,  really.  The  breeze  is  al 
ways  cool  up  there,  doctor,  and  the  sun  stays  there 
longest  of  any  spot  round  here.  It  strikes  that  hill  first 
thing  in  the  morning,  and  stays  till  last  thing  at  night. 
We've  got  a  bench  there,  a  real  comfortable  one  I 
made  myself;  not  one  of  those  hard,  iron  things  they 
usually  put  in  cemeteries.  I've  given  Hal  lots  of  his 
lessons,  reading  and  navigation,  up  there.  I  go  up 
every  day  a  spell,  and  take  the  dog  with  me,  and  Ezra 
goes,  too;  and  we  carry  up  flowers  and  put  'em  in 
jars,  and  holystone  the  monument  and  the  headstones, 
and  make  it  all  shipshape.  It's  all  as  bright  as  a  but 
ton,  and  so  it's  going  to  be,  as  long  as  I'm  on  deck." 

"  I  think  you've  got  the  right  idea,  captain,"  mur 
mured  Filhiol.  "  Death,  after  all,  is  quite  as  natural 
a  process,  quite  as  much  to  be  desired  at  the  proper 
time,  as  life.  I  used  to  fear  it,  when  I  was  young; 
but  now  I'm  old,  I'm  not  at  all  afraid.  Are  you  ?  " 

"Never!  If  I  can  only  live  to  see  Hal  launched 
and  off  on  his  life  journey,  with  colors  flying  and 
everything  trig  aloft  and  alow,  I'll  be  right  glad  to  go. 
That's  what  I've  often  told  my  wife  and  the  others, 
sitting  up  there  in  the  sunshine,  smoking  my  pipe. 
You  know,  that's  where  I  go  to  smoke  and  think, 
doctor.  Ezra  goes  too,  and  sometimes  we  take  the 
old  checker-board  and  have  a  game  or  so.  We  take 
the  telescopes  and  sextant  up,  too,  and  make  observa 
tions  there.  It  kind  of  scandalizes  some  of  the  stiff- 
necked  old  Puritans,  but  Lord  love  you !  I  don't  see 
any  harm  in  it,  do  you  ?  It  all  seems  nice  and  sociable ; 
it  makes  the  death  of  my  people  seem  only  a  kind 
of  temporary  going  away,  as  if  they'd  gone  on  a  visit, 
like,  and  as  if  Hal  and  Ezra  and  I  were  just  waiting 
for  'em  to  come  back. 

"  I  tell  you,  doctor,  it's  as  homy  and  comfortable 
as  anything  you  ever  saw.  I'm  truly  very  happy,  up 


n8  CURSED 

there.  Yes,  in  spite  of  everything,  I  reckon  I'm  a 
happy  man.  I've  got  no  end  of  things  to  be  thankful 
for.  I've  prospered.  Best  of  all,  the  main  thing  with 
out  which,  of  course,  everything  else  wouldn't  be  worth 
a  tinker's  dam,  I've  got  my  grandson,  Hal !  " 

"  I  see.     Tell  me  about  him,  captain." 

"  I  will.  He's  been  two  years  in  college  already, 
and  he's  more  than  made  good.  He's  twenty-one,  and 
got  shoulders  on  him  like  Goliath.  You  ought  to  see 
him  at  work  in  the  gym  he's  fitted  up  in  the  barn! 
Oh,  doctor,  he's  a  wonder!  His  rating  is  Ai,  all 
through." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it.  And  you  say  he's  coming  home 
to-day?" 

"  To-day  —  which  makes  this  day  a  great,  wonder 
ful  day  for  his  old  grandfather,  and  that's  the  living 
truth.  Yes,  he's  coming  home  for  as  long  as  he'll 
stay  with  me,  though  he's  got  some  idea  of  going  out 
with  the  fishing-fleet,  for  what  he  calls  local  color. 
He's  quite  a  fellow  to  make  up  stories ;  says  he  wants 
to  go  to  sea  a  while,  so  he  can  do  it  right.  Though, 
Lord  knows,  he's  full  enough  of  sea-lore  and  sea- 
skill.  That's  his  grandfather's  blood  cropping  out 
again,  I  suppose,  that  love  for  blue  water.  That's 
what  you  call  heredity,  isn't  it,  doctor  ?  " 

"  H-m !  yes,  I  suppose  so,"  answered  Filhiol,  frown 
ing  a  little.  "  Though  heredity's  peculiar.  We  don't 
always  know  just  what  it  is,  or  how  it  acts.  Still,  if 
a  well-marked  trait  comes  out  in  the  offspring,  we  call 
it  heredity.  So  he's  got  your  love  of  the  sea,  has  he?  " 

"  He  surely  has.  There's  salt  in  his  blood,  all  right 
enough! " 

"  H-m !  You  don't  notice  any  —  any  other  traits 
in  him  that  —  remind  you  of  your  earlier  days?" 

"If  you  mean  strength  and  activity,  and  the  love 
of  hard  work,  yes.  Now  see,  for  example.  Any 


THE  CAPTAIN  SPEAKS  119 

other  boy  would  have  come  home  by  train,  and  lots 
of  'em  would  have  traveled  in  the  smoker,  with  a 
pack  of  cigarettes  and  a  magazine.  Does  Hal  come 
home  that  way?  He  does  not!  He  writes  me  he's 
going  to  work  his  way  up  on  a  schooner,  out  of  Bos 
ton,  for  experience. v  That's  why  I'm  keeping  my 
glass  on  the  harbor.  He  told  me  the  name  of  the 
schooner.  It's  the  Sylvia  Fletcher.  The  minute  she 
sticks  her  jib  round  Truxbury  Light,  I'll  catch  her." 

"  Sylvia  Fletcher?  "  asked  the  doctor.  "  That's  an 
odd  coincidence,  isn't  it?" 

"What  is?" 

"  Why,  just  look  at  those  initials,  captain.  Sylvia 
Fletcher  —  S.  F." 

"Well,  what  about  'em?" 

"  Silver  Fleece.     That  was  S.  F.,  too." 

The  captain  turned  puzzled  eyes  on  his  guest.  He 
passed  a  hand  over  his  white  hair,  and  pondered  a 
second  or  two.  Then  said  he: 

"That  is  odd,  doctor,  but  what  about  it?  There 
must  be  hundreds  of  vessels  afloat,  with  those  initials." 

"  By  all  means.  Of  course  it  can't  mean  anything. 
As  you  say,  S.  F.  must  be  common  enough  initials 
among  ships.  So  then,  Hal's  amphibious  already, 
is  he  ?  What's  he  going  to  be  ?  A  captain  like  your 
self?" 

"  I'd  like  him  to  be.  I  don't  hardly  think  so, 
though,"  Briggs  answered,  a  little  distraught.  Some 
thing  had  singularly  disturbed  him.  Now  ^nd  then 
he  cast  an  uneasy  glance  at  the  withered  little  man 
in  the  chair  beside  him. 

"  It's  going  to  be  his  own  choice,  his  profession 
is,"  he  went  on.  "  He's  got  to  settle  that  for  him 
self.  But  I  know  this  much  —  anything  he  under 
takes,  he'll  make  a  success  of.  He'll  carry  it  out  to 
the  last  inch.  He's  a  wonder,  Hal  is.  Ah,  a  fellow 


120  CURSED 

to  warm  the  heart!  He's  none  of  your  mollycoddles, 
in  spite  of  all  the  high  marks  and  prizes  he's  taken. 
No,  no,  nothing  at  all  of  the  mollycoddle." 

The  captain's  face  lighted  up  with  pride  and  joy 
and  a  profound  eagerness. 

"  There  isn't  anything  that  boy  can't  do,  doctor," 
he  continued.  "  Athletics  and  all  that ;  and  he's  gone 
in  for  some  of  the  hardest  studies,  too,  and  beaten  men 
that  don't  do  anything  but  get  round-shouldered  over 
books.  He's  taken  work  outside  the  regular  course 
—  strange  Eastern  languages,  doctor.  I  hear  there 
never  was  a  boy  like  Hal.  You  don't  wonder  I've 
been  sitting  here  all  afternoon  with  my  old  spy-glass,  do 
you?" 

"  Indeed  I  don't,"  Filhiol  answered,  a  note  of  envy 
in  his  feeble  voice.  "  You've  had  your  troubles,  just 
as  we  all  have,  but  you've  got  something  still  to  live 
for,  and  that's  more  than  /  can  say.  You've  got 
everything,  everything!  It  never  worked  out  on  you, 
after  all,  the  curse  —  the  black  curse  that  was  put  on 
you  fifty  years  ago.  It  was  all  nonsense,  of  course, 
and  I  knew  it  wouldn't.  All  that  stuff  is  pure  super 
stition  and  humbug — " 

"  Of  course!  Why,  you  don't  believe  such  rubbish! 
I've  lived  that  all  down  half  a  lifetime  ago.  Two  or 
three  times,  when  death  took  away  those  I  loved,  I 
thought  maybe  the  curse  of  old  Dengan  Jouga  was 
really  striking  me,  but  it  wasn't.  For  that  curse  said 
everything  I  loved  would  be  taken  away,  and  there 
was  always  something  left  to  live  for;  and  even  when 
I'd  been  as  hard  hit  as  a  man  ever  was,  almost,  after 
a  while  I  could  get  my  bearings  again  and  make  sail 
and  keep  along  on  my  course.  Because,  you  see,  I 
always  had  Hal  to  love  and  pin  my  hopes  to.  I've 
got  him  now.  He's  all  I've  got  —  but,  God!  how 
wonderfully  much  he  is!  " 


121 

"  Yes,  yes,  you're  quite  right,"  the  doctor  answered. 
"  He  must  be  a  splendid  chap,  all  round.  What  does 
he  look  like?" 

"  I'm  going  to  answer  you  in  a  peculiar  way,"  said 
Briggs.  "  That  boy,  sir,  that  grandson  of  mine,  he's 
the  living  spit  and  image  of  what  I  was,  fifty-five  or 
sixty  years  ago !  " 

"  Eh,  what  ?     What's  that  you  say  ?  " 

"  It's  wonderful,  I  tell  you,  to  see  the  resemblance. 
His  father  —  my  son  —  didn't  show  it  at  all.  A  fine, 
handsome  man  he  was,  doctor,  and  a  good  man,  too. 
Everybody  liked  him;  he  never  did  a  bad  thing  in  his 
life.  He  sailed  a  straight  course,  and  went  under 
his  own  canvas,  all  the  way;  and  I  loved  him  for  an 
honest,  upright  man.  But  he  wasn't  brilliant.  He 
never  set  the  world  on  fire.  He  was  just  a  plain, 
good,  average  man. 

"  But,  Hal !  Hal  —  ah,  now  there  is  something 
for  you!  He's  got  all  the  physique  I  ever  had,  at 
my  best,  and  he's  got  a  hundred  per  cent,  more  brains 
than  ever  I  had.  It's  as  if  I  could  see  myself,  my 
youth  and  strength,  rise  up  out  of  the  grave  of  the 
past,  all  shining  and  splendid,  doctor,  and  live  again 
and  make  my  soul  sing  with  the  morning  stars,  for 
gladness,  like  it  says  in  the  Bible  or  somewhere,  sir !  " 

The  old  captain,  quite  breathless  with  his  unaccus 
tomed  eloquence,  pulling  out  a  huge  handkerchief, 
wiped  his  forehead  where  the  sweat  had  started.  He 
winked  eyes  wet  with  sudden  moisture.  Filhiol  peered 
at  him  with  a  strange,  brooding  expression. 

"You  say  he's  just  like  you,  captain?"  asked  he. 
"  He's  just  the  way  you  used  to  be,  in  the  old  days?  " 

"  Why  —  no,  not  in  all  ways.  God  forbid !  But 
in  size  and  strength  he's  the  equal  of  me  at  my  best, 
or  even  goes  ahead  of  that.  And  as  I've  told  you 
before,  he's  got  no  end  more  brains  than  ever  I  had." 


122  CURSED 

"  How's  the  boy's  temper?  " 

"Temper?" 

"  Ever  have  any  violent  spells  ? "  The  doctor 
seemed  as  if  diagnosing  a  case.  Briggs  looked  at 
him,  none  too  well  pleased. 

"  Why  —  no.  Not  as  I  know  of,"  he  answered, 
though  without  any  emphatic  denial.  "Of  course  all 
boys  sometimes  slip  their  anchors,  and  run  foul  of 
whatever's  in  the  way.  That's  natural  for  young 
blood.  I  wouldn't  give  a  brass  farthing  for  a  boy 
that  had  no  guts,  would  you  ?  " 

"  No,  no.     Of  course  not.     It's  natural  for  — " 

"Ship  ahoy!"  the  captain  joyfully  hailed.  His 
keen  old  eye  had  just  caught  sight  of  something,  far 
in  the  offing,  which  had  brought  the  glass  to  his  eye 
in  a  second.  "  There  she  is,  doctor !  There's  the 
Sylvia  Fletcher,  sure  as  guns !  " 

"  He's  coming,  then?  " 

"  Almost  here!  See,  right  to  south'ard  o'  the  light? 
That's  the  Sylvia,  and  my  boy's  aboard  her.  She'll 
be  at  Hadlock's  Wharf  in  half  an  hour.  He's  almost 
home.  Hal's  almost  home  again !  " 

The  captain  stood  up  and  faced  the  doctor,  radiant. 
Joy,  pride,  anticipation  beamed  from  his  weather- 
beaten  old  face;  his  eyes  sparkled,  blue,  with  pure 
happiness.  He  said: 

"  Well,  I'm  going  down  to  meet  him.  Do  you 
want  to  go,  too,  doctor  ?  " 

"How  far  is  it?" 

"  Mile,  or  a  little  better.  I'll  make  it,  easy,  afore 
the  Sylvia  gets  in.  I'll  be  on  the  wharf,  all  right, 
to  welcome  Hal." 

"I  —  I  think  I'll  stay  here,  captain,"  the  other 
answered.  "  I'm  lame,  you  know.  I  couldn't  walk 
that  far." 

"  How  about  the  horse?     Ezra'll  hitch  up  for  you." 


THE  CAPTAIN  SPEAKS  123 

"  No,  no.  It  tires  me  to  ride.  I'm  not  used  to  so 
much  excitement  and  activity.  If  it's  all  the  same 
to  you,  I'll  just  sit  here  and  wait.  Give  me  a  book, 
or  something,  and  I'll  wait  for  you  both." 

"  All  right,  doctor,  suit  yourself,"  the  captain  as 
sented.  The  relief  in  his  voice  was  not  to  be  con 
cealed.  Despite  his  most  friendly  hospitality,  some 
thing  in  the  doctor's  attitude  and  speech  had  laid  a 
chill  upon  his  heart.  The  prospect  of  getting  away 
from  the  old  man  and  of  meeting  Hal  quite  alone, 
allured  him.  "  I'll  give  you  books  enough  for  a  week, 
or  anything  you  like.  And  here  in  this  drawer,"  as  he 
opened  one  in  the  table,  "  you'll  find  a  box  of  the  best 
Havanas." 

"  No,  no,  I've  given  up  smoking,  long  ago,"  the 
doctor  smiled,  thinly.  "  My  heart  wouldn't  stand  it. 
But  thank  you,  just  the  same." 

The  figure  of  Ezra  loomed  in  the  doorway,  and, 
followed  by  the  dog,  came  out  upon  the  porch. 

"  Sighted  him,  cap'n?  "  asked  the  old  man  joyfully. 
"  I  heered  you  hailin'.  That's  him,  sure?  " 

"  There's  the  Sylvia  Fletcher,"  Briggs  made  answer. 
"  You'll  see  Hal  afore  sundown." 

"Gosh,  ain't  that  great,  though?"  grinned  Ezra, 
his  leathery  face  breaking  into  a  thousand  wrinkles. 
"  If  I'd  of  went  an'  made  that  there  cake,  an'  fixed 
that  lamb,  an'  he  hadn't  of  made  port — " 

"  Well,  it's  all  right,  Ezra.  Now  I'm  off.  Come, 
Ruddy,"  he  summoned  the  Airedale.  "  Master's  com 
ing!'' 

As  the  dog  got  up,  the  doctor  painfully  rose  from 
his  chair.  Cane  in  hand,  he  limped  along  the  porch. 

"  It's  just  a  trifle  chilly  out  here,  captain,"  said  he, 
shivering  slightly.  "  May  I  go  inside?  " 

"  Don't  ask,  doctor.  Snug  Haven's  yours,  all  yours, 
as  long  as  you  want  it.  Make  yourself  at  home! 


124  CURSED 

Books,  papers,  everything  in  the  library  —  my  cabin, 
I  call  it.  And  if  you  want,  Ezrall  start  a  fire  for 
you  in  the  grate,  and  get  you  tea  or  coffee  — " 

"  No,  no,  thank  you.  My  nerves  won't  stand  them. 
!But  a  little  warm  milk  and  a  fire  will  do  me  a  world 
of  good." 

"  Ezra'll  mix  you  an  egg-nog  that  will  make  you 
feel  like  a  fighting-cock.  Now  I  must  be  going.  Hal 
mustn't  come  ashore  and  not  find  me  waiting.  Come, 
Ruddy !  Good-by,  doctor.  Good-by,  Ezra ;  so  long !  " 

"  Tell  Master  Hal  about  the  plum-cake  an'  the 
lamb!"  called  the  faithful  one,  as  Captain  Briggs,  a 
brave  and  sturdy  figure  in  his  brass-buttoned  coat  of 
blue  and  his  gold-laced  cap  tramped  down  the  sandy 
walk.  "  Don't  fergit  to  tell  him  I  got  it  special !  " 

At  the  gate,  Briggs  waved  a  cheery  hand.  The 
doctor,  peering  after  him  with  strange,  sad  eyes,  shook 
a  boding  head.  He  stood  leaning  on  his  stick,  till 
Briggs  had  skirted  the  box-hedge  and  disappeared 
around  the  turn  by  the  smithy.  Then,  shivering  again 

—  despite  the  brooding  warmth  of  the  June  afternoon 

—  he  turned  and  followed  Ezra  into  the  house. 

"  After  fifty  years,"  he  murmured,  as  he  went.  "  I 
wonder  if  it  could  be  —  after  fifty  years?" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

VISIONS   OF  THE   PAST 

Comfortably  installed  in  a  huge  easy-chair  beside 
the  freshly  built  fire  in  the  "  cabin  "  of  Snug  Haven 
and  with  one  of  Ezra  Trefethen's  most  artful  egg-nogs 
within  easy  reach,  the  aged  doctor  leaned  back,  and 
sighed  deeply. 

"  Maybe  the  captain's  right,"  said  he.  "  Maybe  the 
boy's  all  right.  It's  possible ;  but  I  don't  know,  I  don't 
know." 

Blinking,  his  eyes  wandered  about  the  room,  which 
opened  off  from  an  old-fashioned  hallway  lighted  by 
glass  panels  at  the  sides  of  the  front  door,  and  by  a 
leaded  fanlight  over  the  lintel ;  a  hallway  with  a  curved 
stairway  that  would  have  delighted  the  heart  of  any 
antiquarian.  The  cabin  itself  showed  by  its  construc 
tion  and  furnishing  that  the  captain  had  spent  a  great 
deal  of  thought  and  time  and  money.  At  first  glance, 
save  that  the  fireplace  was  an  incongruous  note,  one 
would  have  thought  one's  self  aboard  ship,  so  closely 
had  the  nautical  idea  been  carried  out. 

To  begin  with,  the  windows  at  the  side,  which  opened 
out  upon  the  orchard,  were  circular  and  rimmed  with 
shining  brass,  and  had  thick  panes  inward-swinging 
like  ships'  port-holes.  A  polished  fir  column,  set  a 
trifle  on  a  slant,  rose  from  floor  to  ceiling,  which 
was  supported  on  \vhite  beams,  the  form  and  curve  of 
which  exactly  imitated  marine  architecture.  This 
column  measured  no  less  than  a  foot  and  a  half  in 
diameter,  and  gave  precisely  the  impression  of  a  ship's 

125 


126  CURSED 

mast.  On  it  hung  a  chronometer,  boxed  in  a  case  of 
polished  mahogany,  itself  the  work  of  the  captain's 
own  hand. 

All  the  lamps  were  hung  in  gimbals,  as  if  the  good 
captain  expected  Snug  Haven  at  any  moment  to  set 
sail  and  go  pitching  away  over  storm-tossed  seas. 
The  green-covered  table  bore  a  miscellany  of  nautical 
almanacs ;  it  accommodated,  also,  a  variety  of  charts, 
maps  and  meteorological  reports.  The  captain's  own 
chair  at  that  table  was  a  true  swinging-chair,  screwed 
to  the  floor;  and  this  floor,  you  understand,  was  un- 
carpeted,  so  that  the  holystoned  planking  shone  in 
immaculate  cleanliness  as  the  declining  sun  through 
the  portholes  painted  long,  reddish  stripes  across  it. 
Brass  instruments  lay  on  the  table,  and  from  them 
the  sun  flecked  little  high-lights  against  the  clean,  white 
paint  of  the  cabin. 

At  the  left  of  the  table  stood  a  binnacle,  with  com 
pass  and  all;  at  the  right,  a  four-foot  globe,  its  surface 
scored  with  numerous  names,  dates  and  memoranda, 
carefully  written  in  red  ink.  The  captain's  log-book, 
open  on  the  table,  also  showed  writing  in  red.  No 
ordinary  diary  sufficed  for  Alpheus  Briggs ;  no,  he 
would  have  a  regulation  ship's  log  to  keep  the  record 
of  his  daily  life,  or  he  would  have  no  record  at  all. 

In  a  rack  at  one  side  rested  two  bright  telescopes, 
with  an  empty  place  for  the  glass  now  out  on  the 
piazza.  Beneath  this  rack  a  sextant  hung ;  and  at  one 
side  the  daily  government  weather-report  was  affixed 
to  a  white-painted  board. 

A  sofa-locker,  quite  like  a  ship's  berth,  still  showed 
the  impress  of  the  captain's  body,  where  he  had  taken 
his  after-dinner  nap.  One  almost  thought  to  hear  the 
chanting  of  sea-winds  in  cordage,  aloft,  and  the  creak 
and  give  of  seasoned  timbers.  A  curious,  a  wonderful 
room,  indeed !  And  as  Dr.  Filhiol  studied  it,  his  face 


VISIONS  OF  THE  PAST  127 

expressed  a  kind  of  yearning  eagerness;  for  to  his 
fading  life  this  connotation  of  the  other,  braver  days 
brought  back  memories  of  things  that  once  had  been, 
that  now  could  never  be  again. 

Yet,  analyzing  everything,  he  put  away  these 
thoughts.  Many  sad  years  had  broken  the  spirit  in 
him  and  turned  his  thoughts  to  the  worse  aspects  of 
everything.  He  shook  his  head  again  dubiously,  and 
his  thin  lips  formed  the  words: 

"  This  is  very,  very  strange.  This  is  some  form 
of  mental  aberration,  surely.  No  man  wholly  sane 
would  build  and  furnish  any  such  grotesque  place. 
It's  worse,  worse  than  I  thought." 

Contemplatively  he  sipped  the  egg-nog  and  continued 
his  observations,  while  from  the  kitchen  —  no,  the 
galley  —  sounded  a  clink  of  coppers,  mingled  with 
the  piping  song  of  old  Ezra,  interminably  discoursing 
on  the  life  and  adventures  of  the  unfortunate  Reuben 
Ranzo,  whose  chantey  is  beknown  to  all  seafaring  men. 
The  doctor's  eyes,  wandering  to  the  wall  nearest  him, 
now  perceived  a  glass-fronted  cabinet,  filled  with  a 
most  extraordinary  omnium  gatherum  of  curios. 

Corals,  sponges,  coir,  nuts,  pebbles  and  dried  fruits, 
strange  puffy  and  spiny  fishes,  specimens  in  alcohol, 
a  thousand  and  one  oddments  jostled  each  other  on 
the  shelves. 

Nor  was  this  all  to  excite  the  doctor's  wonder. 
For  hard  by  the  cabinet  he  now  perceived  the  door  of 
a  safe,  set  into  the  wall,  its  combination  flush  with 
the  white  boards. 

"  The  captain  can't  be  so  foolish  as  to  keep  his  money 
in  his  house,"  thought  Filhiol.  "  Not  when  there  are 
banks  that  offer  absolute  security.  But  then,  with  a 
man  like  Captain  Briggs,  anything  seems  possible." 

He  drank  a  little  more  of  Ezra's  excellent  concoc 
tion,  and  turned  his  attention  to  the  one  remaining 


128  CURSED 

side  of  the  cabin,  almost  filled  by  the  huge-throated 
fireplace  and  by  the  cobbled  chimney. 

"More  junk!"  said  Dr.  Filhiol  unsympathetically. 

Against  the  cobble-stones,  suspended  from  hooks 
screwed  into  the  cement,  hung  a  regular  arsenal  of 
weapons :  yataghans,  scimitars,  sabers  and  muskets  — 
two  of  them  rare  Arabian  specimens  with  long  barrels 
and  silver-chased  stocks.  Pistols  there  were,  some  of 
antique  patterns  bespeaking  capture  or  purchase  from 
half-civilized  peoples.  Daggers  and  stilettos  had  been 
worked  into  a  kind  of  rough  pattern.  A  bow  and 
arrows,  a  "  Penang  lawyer,"  and  a  couple  of  boome 
rangs  were  interspersed  between  some  knobkerries 
from  Australia,  and  a  few  shovel-headed  spears  and 
African  pigmies'  blow-guns.  All  the  weapons  showed 
signs  of  wear  or  rust.  In  every  probability,  all  had 
taken  human  life. 

Odd,  was  it  not,  that  the  captain,  now  so  mild  a 
man  of  peace,  should  have  maintained  so  grim  a  reliqu 
ary?  But,  perhaps  (the  doctor  thought),  Briggs  had 
preserved  it  as  a  kind  of  strange,  contrasting  reminder 
of  his  other  days,  just  as  more  than  one  reformed 
drunkard  has  been  known  to  keep  the  favorite  little 
brown  jug  that  formerly  was  his  undoing. 

Filhiol,  however,  very  deeply  disapproved  of  this 
collection.  Old  age  and  infirmity  had  by  no  means 
rendered  his  disposition  more  suave.  He  muttered 
words  of  condemnation,  drank  off  a  little  more  of  the 
egg-nog,  and  once  again  fell  to  studying  the  collection. 
And  suddenly  his  attention  concentrated,  fixing  itself 
with  particular  intentness  on  a  certain  blade  that  until 
then  had  escaped  his  scrutiny. 

This  blade,  a  Malay  kris  with  a  beautifully  carved 
lotus-bud  on  the  handle,  seemed  to  occupy  a  sort  of 
central  post  of  honor,  toward  which  the  other  knives 
converged.  The  doctor  adjusted  his  spectacles  and 


VISIONS  OF  THE  PAST  129 

studied  it  for  a  long  minute,  as  if  trying  to  bring  back 
some  recollections  not  quite  clear.  Then  he  arose 
lamely,  and  squinted  up  at  the  blade. 

"  That's  a  kris,"  said  he  slowly.  "  A  Malay  kris. 
Good  Lord,  it  couldn't  be  —  the  kris,  could  it?" 

He  remained  a  little  while,  observing  the  weapon. 
The  sunlight,  ever  growing  redder  as  the  sun  sank  over 
Croft  Hill  and  the  ancient  cemetery,  flicked  lights  from 
the  brass  instruments  on  the  table,  and  for  a  moment 
seemed  to  crimson  the  vicious,  wavy  blade  of  steel. 
The  doctor  raised  a  lean  hand  to  touch  the  kris,  then 
drew  back. 

"  Better  not,"  said  he.  "  That's  the  one,  all  right 
enough.  There's  the  groove,  the  poison  groove. 
There  couldn't  be  two  exactly  alike.  I  remember 
that  groove  especially.  And  curare  lasts  for  years; 
it's  just  as  fatal  now,  as  when  it  was  first  put  on.  That 
kris  is  mighty  good  to  let  alone !  " 

A  dark,  rusty  stain  on  the  blade  set  him  shuddering. 
Blood,  was  it  —  blood,  from  the  long  ago  ?  Who 
could  say  ?  The  kris  evoked  powerful  memories.  The 
battle  of  Motomolo  Strait  rose  up  before  him.  The 
smoke  from  the  fire  in  the  grate  seemed,  all  at  once, 
that  of  the  burning  proa,  drifting  over  the  opalescent 
waters  of  that  distant  sea.  The  illusion  was  extraor 
dinary.  Dr.  Filhiol  closed  his  eyes,  held  tightly  to  the 
edge  of  the  mantel,  and  with  dilated  nostrils  sniffed 
the  smoke.  He  remained  there,  transfixed  with  poig 
nant  emotions,  trembling,  afraid. 

It  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  shadowy  hand  of  some 
malignant  jinnee  had  reached  out  of  the  bleeding  past, 
and  had  laid  hold  on  him  —  a  hand  that  seized  and 
shook  his  heart  with  an  envenomed,  bony  clutch. 

"  God !  "  he  murmured.  "  What  a  time  that  was  — 
what  a  ghastly,  terrible  time  !  " 

He  tried  to  shake  off  this  obsessing  vision,  opened 


130  CURSED 

his  eyes,  and  sank  down  into  the  easy-chair.  Un 
nerved,  shaking,  he  struck  the  glass  still  holding  some 
of  the  egg-nog,  and  knocked  it  to  the  floor. 

The  crash  of  the  breaking  glass  startled  him  as  if 
it  had  been  the  crack  of  a  rifle.  Quivering,  he  stared 
down  at  the  liquor,  spreading  over  the  holystoned  floor. 
Upon  it  the  red  sunlight  gleamed;  and  in  a  flash  he 
beheld  once  more  the  deck  of  the  old  Silver  Fleece, 
smeared  and  spotted  with  blood. 

Back  he  shrank,  with  extended  hands,  superstitious 
fear  at  his  heart.  Something  nameless,  cold  and  ter 
rible  fingered  at  the  latchets  of  his  soul.  It  was  all 
irrational  enough,  foolish  enough;  but  still  it  caught 
him  in  its  grip,  that  perfectly  unreasoning,  heart- 
clutching  fear. 

Weakly  he  pressed  a  shaking  hand  over  his  eyes, 
bloodless  lips  he  quavered  : 

"  After  fifty  years,  my  God !     After  fifty  years !  " 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE   LOOMING   SHADOW 

Old  Captain  Briggs,  meanwhile,  absorbed  in  the 
most  cheerful  speculations,  was  putting  his  best  foot 
forward  on  the  road  to  Hadlock's  Wharf.  A  vigorous 
foot  it  was,  indeed,  and  right  speedily  it  carried  him. 
With  pipe  in  full  eruption,  leaving  a  trail  of  blue  smoke 
on  the  late  afternoon  air,  and  with  boots  creaking  on 
the  hard,  white  road,  the  captain  strode  along;  while 
the  Airedale  trotted  ahead  as  if  he,  too,  understood  that 
Master  Hal  was  coming  home. 

He  made  his  way  out  of  the  village  and  so  struck 
into  the  road  to  Endicutt  itself.  "  The  mingled  scents 
of  field  and  ocean  "  perfumed  the  air,  borne  on  a  breeze 
that  blent  the  odors  of  sea  and  weedy  foreshore  and 
salt  marsh  with  those  of  garden  and  orchard,  into  a 
kind  of  airy  nectar  that  seemed  to  infuse  fresh  life  into 
the  captain's  blood.  His  blue  eyes  sparkled  almost  as 
brightly  as  the  harbor  itself,  where  gaily  painted  lob 
ster-pot  buoys  heaved  on  the  swells,  where  dories  la 
bored  and  where  gulls  spiraled. 

Briggs  seemed  to  love  the  sea,  that  afternoon,  almost 
as  he  had  never  loved  it  —  the  wonderful  mystery  of 
tireless,  revivifying,  all-engendering  sea.  Joy  rilled 
him  that  Hal,  in  whose  life  lived  all  the  hopes  of  his 
race,  should  have  inherited  this  love  of  the  all-mother, 
Ocean. 

Deeply  the  captain  breathed,  as  he  strode  onward, 
and  felt  that  life  was  being  very  good  to  him.  For 
the  most  part,  rough  hillocks  and  tangled  clumps  of 

131 


1 32  CURSED 

pine,  hemlock  and  gleaming  birch  hid  the  bay  from 
him ;  but  now  and  again  these  gave  way  to  sandy 
stretches,  leaving  the  harbor  broad-spread  and  spark 
ling  to  his  gaze.  And  as  the  old  man  passed  each  such 
place,  his  eyes  sought  the  incoming  canvas  of  the  Sylvia 
Fletcher,  that  seemed  to  him  shining  more  white,  up- 
rearing  itself  with  more  stately  power,  than  that  of 
any  other  craft. 

Now  and  then  he  hailed  the  boy  as  if  Hal  could  hear 
him  across  all  that  watery  distance.  His  hearty  old 
voice  lost  itself  in  the  ebbing,  flowing  murmur  of  the 
surf  that  creamed  up  along  the  pebbles,  and  dragged 
them  down  with  a  long,  rattling  slither.  Everything 
seemed  glad,  to  Captain  Briggs  —  dories  hauled  up 
on  the  sand;  blocks,  ropes  and  drying  sails;  lobster- 
pots  and  fish-cars ;  buoys,  rusty  anchors  half-buried  — 
everything  seemed  to  wear  a  festive  air.  For  was  not 
Hal,  now  homeward  bound,  now  almost  here  ? 

So  overflowing  were  the  old  man's  spirits  that  with 
good  cheer  even  beyond  his  usual  hearty  greeting  he 
gave  the  glad  news  to  all  along  the  road,  to  those  he 
met,  to  those  who  stopped  their  labors  or  looked  up 
from  their  rest  in  yards  and  houses,  to  give  him  a  good- 
evening. 

"  It  is  a  good  evening  for  me,  neighbor,"  he  would 
say,  with  a  fine  smile,  his  beard  snowy  in  the  sun  now 
low  across  the  western  hills.  "  A  fine,  wonderful 
evening!  Hal's  coming  home  to-night;  he's  on  the 
Sylvia  Fletcher,  just  making  in  past  the  Rips,  there  — 
see,  you  can  sight  her,  yourself." 

And  then  he  would  pass  on,  glad,  triumphant.  And 
as  he  went,  hammers  would  cease  their  caulking, 
brushes  their  painting;  and  the  fishers  mending  their 
russet  nets  spread  over  hedge  or  fence  would  wish  him 

joy- 
Here,  there,  a  child  would  take  his  hand  and  walk 


THE  LOOMING  SHADOW  133 

with  him  a  little  way,  till  the  captain's  stout  pace  tired 
the  short  legs,  or  till  some  good  mother  from  a  cottage 
door  would  call  the  little  one  back  for  supper.  Just 
so,  fifty  years  ago,  yellow-skinned  Malay  mothers  had 
called  their  children  within  doors,  at  Batu  Kawan,  lest 
Mambang  Kuning,  the  demon  who  dwelt  in  the  sun 
set,  should  do  them  harm.  And  just  so  the  sunset  it 
self,  that  wicked  night  at  the  Malay  kampong,  had 
glowered  redly. 

A  mist  was  now  rising  from  the  harbor  and  the 
marshland,  like  an  exhalation  of  pale  ghosts,  floating 
vaguely,  quite  as  the  smoke  had  floated  above  Batu 
Kawan.  The  slowly  fading  opalescence  of  the  sky, 
reddening  over  the  hills,  bore  great  resemblance  to 
those  hues  that  in  the  long  ago  had  painted  the  sky 
above  the  jagged  mountain-chain  in  that  far  land. 
But  of  all  this  the  captain  was  taking  no  thought. 

No,  nothing  could  enter  his  mind  save  the  glad 
present  and  the  impending  moment  when  he  should  see 
his  Hal  again,  should  feel  the  boy's  hand  in  his,  put  an 
arm  about  his  shoulder  and,  quite  unashamed,  give  him 
a  kiss  patriarchal  in  its  fine  simplicity  and  love. 

"  It  is  a  good  evening!  "  he  repeated.  "  A  wonder 
ful  evening,  friends.  Why,  Hal's  been  gone  nearly  six 
months.  Gone  since  last  Christmas.  And  now  he's 
coming  back  to  me,  again !  " 

So  he  passed  on.  One  thing  he  did  not  note :  this  — 
that  though  all  the  folk  gave  him  Godspeed,  no  one  in 
quired  about  Hal.  That  after  he  had  passed,  more 
than  one  shook  a  dubious  head  or  murmured  words  of 
commiseration.  Some  few  of  the  fisherfolk,  leaning 
over  their  fences  to  watch  after  him,  talked  a  little 
together  in  low  tones  as  if  they  feared  the  breeze  might 
bear  their  words  to  the  old  man. 

Of  all  this  the  captain  remained  entirely  unaware. 
On  he  kept,  into  the  straggling  outskirts  of  Endicutt. 


134  CURSED 

Now  he  could  see  the  harbor  only  at  rare  intervals ;  but 
in  the  occasional  glimpses  he  caught  of  it,  he  saw  the 
Sylvia  Fletcher's  tops'ls  crumpling  down  and  perceived 
that  she  was  headed  in  directly  for  the  wharf.  He 
hurried  on,  at  a  better  pace.  Above  all  things  Hal 
must  not  come,  and  find  no  grandfather  waiting  for 
him.  That,  to  the  captain's  mind,  would  have  been  un 
thinkable  treason. 

The  captain  strode  along  the  cobblestoned  main 
street,  past  the  ship-chandlers'  stores,  the  sail-lofts 
and  quaint  old  shops,  and  so  presently  turned  to  the 
right,  into  Hadlock's  Wharf.  Here  the  going  was 
bad,  because  of  crates  and  barrels  of  iced  fish  and 
lobsters,  and  trucks,  and  a  miscellany  of  obstructions. 
For  a  moment  the  captain  was  entirely  blocked  by  a 
dray  across  the  wharf,  backing  into  a  fish-shed.  The 
driver  greeted  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Hello,  cap !  "  cried  he.  "  Gee,  but  you're  lookin' 
fine.  What's  up?" 

"  It's  a  great  day  for  me,"  Briggs  answered.  "  A 
rare  fine  day.  "  Hal,  my  boy,  is  coming  home.  He's 
on  the  Sylvia  Fletcher,  just  coming  in  from  Boston. 
Can't  you  let  me  past,  some  way  ?  " 

"Why,  sure!  Back  up!"  the  driver  commanded, 
savagely  jerking  at  the  bit.  ;<  You  can  make  it,  now,  I 
reckon." 

Then,  as  Briggs  squeezed  by,  he  stood  looking  after 
the  old,  blue-clad  figure.  He  turned  a  lump  in  his 
cheek,  and  spat. 

"  Gosh,  ain't  it  a  shame?"  he  murmured.  "Ain't 
it  a  rotten,  gorrammed  shame?  " 

By  the  time  Captain  Briggs,  followed  by  the  faithful 
Ruddy,  reached  the  stringpiece  of  the  wharf,  the 
schooner  was  already  close.  The  captain,  breathing  a 
little  fast,  leaned  against  a  tin-topped  mooring-pile, 
and  with  eager  eyes  scrutinized  the  on-coming  vessel. 


THE  LOOMING  SHADOW  135 

All  along  the  wharf,  the  usual  contingent  of  sailors, 
longshoremen,  fishers  and  boys  had  already  gathered. 
To  none  the  captain  addressed  a  word.  All  his  heart 
and  soul  were  now  fast  riveted  to  the  schooner,  from 
whose  deck  plainly  drifted  words  of  command,  and 
down  from  whose  sticks  the  canvas  was  fast  collapsing. 

With  skilful  handling  and  hardly  a  rag  aloft,  she 
eased  alongside.  Ropes  came  sprangling  to  the  wharf. 
These,  dragged  in  by  volunteer  hands,  brought 
hawsers.  And  with  a  straining  of  hemp,  the  Sylvia 
hauled  to  a  dead  stop,  groaning  and  chafing  against  the 
splintered  timbers. 

Jests,  greetings,  laughter  volleyed  between  craft  and 
wharf.  The  captain,  alone,  kept  silent.  His  eager 
eyes  were  searching  the  deck;  searching,  and  finding 
not. 

"  Hello,  cap'n!  Hey,  there,  Cap'n  Briggs!  "  voices, 
shouted.  The  mate  waved  a  hand  at  him,  and  so  did 
two  or  three  others ;  but  there  seemed  restraint  in  their 
greetings.  Usually  the  presence  of  the  captain 
loosened  tongues  and  set  the  sailormen  glad.  But 
now  — 

With  a  certain  tightening  round  the  heart,  the  cap 
tain  remained  there,  not  knowing  what  to  do.  He 
had  expected  to  see  Hal  on  deck,  waving  a  cap  at  him, 
shouting  to  him.  But  Hal  remained  invisible.  What 
could  have  happened?  The  captain's  eyes  scrutinized 
the  deck,  in  vain.  Neither  fore  nor  aft  was  Hal. 

Briggs  stepped  on  the  low  rail  of  the  schooner  and 
went  aboard.  He  walked  aft,  to  the  man  at  the  wheel. 
Ruddy  followed  close  at  heel. 

"  Hello,  cap'n,"  greeted  the  steersman.  "  Nice  day, 
ain't  it?  "  His  voice  betrayed  embarrassment. 

"Is  my  boy,  Hal,  aboard  o'  you?"  demanded 
Briggs. 

"  Yup." 


136  CURSED 

"Well,  where  is  he?" 

"  Below." 

"Getting  his  dunnage?" 

"  Guess  so."  The  steersman  sucked  at  his  cob  pipe, 
very  ill  at  ease.  Briggs  stared  at  him  a  moment,  then 
turned  toward  the  companion. 

A  man's  head  and  shoulders  appeared  up  the  com- 
panionway.  Out  on  deck  clambered  the  man  —  a 
young  man,  black-haired  and  blue-eyed,  with  mighty 
shoulders  and  a  splendidly  corded  neck  visible  in  the 
low  roll  of  his  opened  shirt.  His  sleeves,  rolled  up, 
showed  arms  and  fists  of  Hercules. 

"  Hal! "  cried  the  captain,  a  world  of  gladness  in  his 
voice.  Silence  fell,  all  about;  every  one  stopped  talk 
ing,  ceased  from  all  activities ;  all  eyes  centered  on  Hal 
and  the  captain. 

"  Hal !  My  boy !  "  exclaimed  Briggs  once  more,  but 
in  an  altered  tone.  He  took  a  step  or  two  forward. 
His  hand,  that  had  gone  out  to  Hal,  dropped  at  his 
side  again. 

He  peered  at  his  grandson  with  troubled,  wonder 
ing  eyes.  Under  the  weathered  tan  of  his  face,  quick 
pallor  became  visible. 

"Why,  Hal,"  he  stammered.  "What  — what's 
happened  ?  What's  the  meaning  of  —  of  all  this ?  " 

Hal  stared  at  him  with  an  expression  the  old  man  had 
never  seen  upon  his  face.  The  boy's  eyes  were  red 
dened,  bloodshot,  savage  with  unreasoning  passion. 
The  right  eye  showed  a  bruise  that  had  already  begun 
to  discolor.  The  jaw  had  gone  forward,  become  prog 
nathous  like  an  ape's,  menacing,  with  a  glint  of  strong, 
white  teeth.  The  crisp  black  hair,  rumpled  and  awry, 
the  black  growth  of  beard  —  two  days  old,  strong  on 
that  square-jawed  face  —  and  something  in  the  full- 
throated  poise  of  the  head,  brought  back  to  the  old 
captain,  in  a  flash,  vivid  and  horrible  memories. 


THE  LOOMING  SHADOW  137 

Up  from  that  hatchway  he  saw  himself  arising,  once 
again,  tangibly  and  in  the  living  flesh.  In  the  swing 
of  Hal's  huge  fists,  the  squaring  of  his  shoulders,  his 
brute  expression  of  blood-lust  and  battle-lust,  old  Cap 
tain  Briggs  beheld,  line  for  line,  his  other  and  bar 
baric  self  of  fifty  years  ago. 

"  Good  God,  Hal !  What's  this  mean?  "  he  gulped, 
while  along  the  wharf  and  on  deck  a  staring  silence 
held.  But  his  question  was  lost  in  a  hoarse  shout 
from  the  cabin: 

"  Here,  you  young  devil !  Come  below,  an'  apolo 
gize  fer  that !  " 

Hal  swung  about,  gripped  both  sides  of  the  com 
panion,  and  leaned  down.  The  veins  in  his  powerful 
neck,  taut-swollen,  seemed  to  start  through  the  bronzed 
skin. 

"  Apologize  ? "  he  roared  down  the  companion. 
"  To  a  lantern-jawed  P.  I.  like  you  ?  Like  hell  I  will !  " 

Then  he  stood  back,  lifted  his  head  and  laughed  with 
deep-lunged  scorn. 

From  below  sounded  a  wordless  roar.  Up  the  lad 
der  scrambled,  simian  in  agility,  a  tall  and  wiry  man  of 
middle  age.  Briggs  saw  in  a  daze  that  this  man  was 
white  with  passion ;  he  had  that  peculiar,  pinched  look 
about  the  nostrils  which  denotes  the  killing  rage.  Cap 
tain  Fergus  McLaughlin,  of  Prince  Edward's  Island, 
had  come  on  deck. 

"  You !  "  McLaughlin  hurled  at  him,  while  the 

old  man  stood  quivering,  paralyzed.  "If  you  was  a 
member  o'  my  crew,  damn  y'r  lip  — " 

"  Yes,  but  I'm  not,  you  see,"  sneered  Hal,  fists  on 
hips.  "  I'm  a  passenger  aboard  your  rotten  old  tub, 
which  is  almost  as  bad  as  your  grammar  and  your 
reputation."  Contemptuously  he  eyed  the  Prince  Ed 
ward's  Islander,  from  rough  woolen  cap  to  sea-boots, 
and  back  again,  every  look  a  blistering  insult.  His 


138  CURSED 

huge  chest,  rising,  falling,  betrayed  the  cumulating 
fires  within.  The  hush  among  the  onlookers  grew 
ominous.  "  There's  not  money  enough  in  circulation 
to  hire  me  to  sign  articles  with  a  low-browed,  sockless, 
bean-eating  — " 

McLaughlin's  leap  cut  short  the  sentence.  With  a 
raw  howl,  the  P.  I.  flung  himself  at  Hal.  Deft  and 
strong  with  his  stony-hard  fists  was  McLaughlin,  and 
the  fighting  heart  in  him  was  a  lion's.  A  hundred  men 
had  he  felled  to  his  decks,  ere  now,  and  not  one  had 
ever  risen  quite  whole,  or  unassisted.  In  the  ex 
tremity  of  his  rage  he  laughed  as  he  sprang. 

Lithely,  easily,  with  the  joy  and  love  of  battle  in  his 
reddened  eyes,  Hal  ducked.  Up  flashed  his  right  fist, 
a  sledge  of  muscle,  bone,  sinew.  The  left  swung  free. 

The  impact  of  Hal's  smash  thudded  sickeningly,  with 
a  suggestion  of  crushed  flesh  and  shattered  bone. 

Sprawling  headlong,  hands  clutching  air,  McLaugh 
lin  fell.  And,  as  he  plunged  with  a  crash  to  the  plank 
ing,  Hal's  laugh  snarled  through  the  tense  air.  From 
him  he  flung  old  Briggs,  now  in  vain  striving  to  clutch 
and  hold  his  arm. 

"  Got  enough  apology,  you  slab-sided  herring- 
choker?"  he  roared,  exultant.  "Enough,  or  want 
some  more  ?  Apologize  ?  You  bet  —  with  these ! 
Come  on,  you  or  any  of  your  crew,  or  all  together,  you 
greasy  fishbacks !  /'//  apologize  you !  " 

Snarling  into  a  laugh  he  stood  there,  teeth  set,  neck 
swollen  and  eyes  engorged  with  blood,  his  terrible  fists 
eager  with  the  lust  of  war. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

HAL   SHOWS   HIS   TEETH 

Fergus  McLaughlin,  though  down,  had  not  yet  taken 
the  count.  True,  Hal  had  felled  him  to  his  own  deck, 
half-stunned;  but  the  wiry  Scot,  toughened  by  many 
seas,  had  never  yet  learned  to  spell  "  defeat."  For 
him,  the  battle  was  just  beginning.  He  managed  to 
rise  on  hands  and  knees.  Mouthing  curses,  he  swayed 
there.  Hal  lurched  forward  to  finish  him  with  never 
a  chance  of  getting  up;  but  now  old  Captain  Briggs 
had  Hal  by  the  arm  again. 

"  Hal,  Hal !  "  he  entreated.     "  For  God's  sake  — " 

Once  more  Hal  threw  the  old  man  off.  The  second's 
delay  rescued  McLaughlin  from  annihilation.  Dazed, 
bleeding  at  mouth  and  nose,  he  staggered  to  his  feet 
and  with  good  science  plunged  into  a  clinch. 

This  unexpected  move  upset  Hal's  tactics  of  smash 
ing  violence.  The  Scot's  long,  wiry  arms  wrapped 
round  him,  hampering  his  fist-work.  Hal  could  do  no 
more  than  drive  in  harmless  blows  at  the  other's  back. 
They  swayed,  tripped  over  a  hawser,  almost  went 
down.  From  the  crew  and  from  the  wharf  ragged 
shouts  arose,  of  fear,  anger,  purely  malicious  delight, 
for  here  was  battle-royal  of  the  finest.  The  sound  of 
feet,  running  down  the  wharf,  told  of  other  contingents 
hastily  arriving. 

"  By  gum!  "  approved  the  helmsman,  forgetting  to 
chew.  He  had  more  than  once  felt  the  full  weight  of 
McLaughlin's  fist.  "  By  gum,  now,  but  Mac's  in  f'r 

139 


I4o  CURSED 

a  good  takin'-down.  If  that  lad  don't  fist  him  proper, 
I  miss  my  'tarnal  guess.  Sick  'im,  boy !  " 

Blaspheming,  Hal  tore  McLaughlin  loose,  flung  him 
back,  lowered  his  head  and  charged.  But  now  the 
Scot  had  recovered  a  little  of  his  wit.  On  deck  he  spat 
blood  and  a  broken  snag  of  tooth.  His  eye  gleamed 
murderously.  The  excess  of  Hal's  rage  betrayed  the 
boy.  His  guard  opened.  In  drove  a  stinging  left 
hander.  McLaughlin  handed  him  the  other  fist,  packed 
full  of  dynamite.  The  boy  reeled,  gulping. 

"  Come  on,  ye  college  bratlin' !  "  challenged  the  fight 
ing  Scot,  and  smeared  the  blood  from  his  mouth. 
"  This  here  ain't  your  ship  —  not  yet !  " 

"  My  ship's  any  ship  I  happen  to  be  on !  "  snarled 
Hal,  circling  for  advantage.  Mac  had  already  taught 
him  to  be  cautious.  Old  Captain  Brigg's  imploring 
cries  fell  from  him,  unheeded.  "  If  this  was  my  ship, 
I'd  wring  your  neck,  so  help  me  God !  But  as  it  is,  I'll 
only  mash  you  to  a  jelly !  " 

"  Pretty  bairn !  "  gibed  McLaughlin,  hunched  into 
battle-pose,  bony  fists  up.  "Grandad's  pretty  pet! 
Arrrh !  Ye  would,  eh  ?  "  as  Hal  bored  in  at  him. 

He  met  the  rush  with  cool  skill.  True,  Hal's  right 
went  to  one  eye,  closing  it;  but  Hal  felt  the  bite  of 
knuckles  catapulted  from  his  neck. 

Hal  delayed  no  more.  Bull-like,  he  charged.  By 
sheer  weight  and  fury  of  blows  he  drove  Mac  forward 
of  the  schooner,  beside  the  deck-house.  Amid  turmoil, 
the  battle  raged.  The  jostling  crowd,  shoved  and 
pushed,  on  deck  and  on  the  wharf,  to  see  this  epic  war. 
Bets  were  placed,  even  money. 

McLaughlin,  panting,  half-blind,  his  teeth  set  in  a 
grin  of  rage,  put  every  ounce  he  had  left  into  each 
blow.  But  Hal  outclassed  him. 

A  minute,  two  minutes  they  fought,  straining,  sweat 
ing,  lashing.  Then  something  swift  and  terrible  con- 


HAL  SHOWS  HIS  TEETH  141 

nected  with  Mac's  jaw-point  in  a  jolt  that  loosened  his 
universe.  Mac's  head  snapped  back.  His  arms  flung 
up.  He  dropped,  pole-axed,  into  the  scuppers. 

For  the  first  time  in  five-and-twenty  years  of  fight 
ing,  clean  and  dirty,  Fergus  McLaughlin  had  taken  a 
knockout. 

A  mighty  shout  of  exultation,  fear  and  rage  loosened 
echoes  from  the  old  fish-sheds.  Three  or  four  of  the 
crew  came  jostling  into  the  circle,  minded  to  avenge 
their  captain.  Sneering,  his  chest  heaving,  but  ready 
with  both  fists,  Hal  faced  them. 

"  Come  on,  all  o'  you !  "  he  flung,  drunk  with  rage, 
his  face  bestial.  A  slaver  of  bloody  froth  trickled  from 
the  corner  of  his  mouth.  "  Come  on!  " 

They  hesitated.  Gorilla-like,  he  advanced.  Back 
through  the  crowd  the  overbold  ones  drew.  No  heart 
remained  in  them  to  tackle  this  infuriated  fighting-ma 
chine. 

Hal  set  both  fists  on  his  hips,  flung  up  his  head  and 
panted : 

"  Apologize,  will  I  ?  I,  a  passenger  on  this  lousy 
tub,  I'll  apologize  to  a  bunch  of  down-east  rough-necks, 
eh?  If  there's  anybody  else  wants  any  apology,  I'm 
here!" 

None  caught  up  the  gage  of  battle.  Bursting  with 
fury  that  had  to  vent  itself,  Hal  swung  toward  Mc 
Laughlin.  The  Scot  had  landed  on  a  coil  of  hawser  in 
the  scuppers,  that  had  somewhat  broken  his  fall.  Hal 
reached  down,  hauled  him  up  and  flung  him  backward 
over  the  rail.  Thrice  he  struck  with  a  fist  reddened  by 
McLaughlin's  blood.  He  wrenched  at  the  unconscious 
man's  arm,  snarling  like  an  animal,  his  face  distorted, 
eyes  glazed  and  staring.  A  crunching  told  of  at  least 
one  broken  bone. 

Shouts  of  horror  fell  unheeded  from  his  ears.  He 
glared  around. 


142  CURSED 

"  My  Gawd,  he's  a-killin'  on  him !  "  quavered  a  voice. 
"  We  can't  stan'  by  an'  see  him  do  murder !  " 

Old  Briggs,  nerved  to  sudden  action,  ran  forward. 

"Hal!     For  God's  sake,  Hal!" 

"You  stand  back,  grandad!     He's  my  meat!  " 

Hal  raised  McLaughlin  high  above  his  head,  with  a 
sweep  of  wonderful  power.  He  dashed  the  Scot  to 
the  bare  planks  with  a  horrible,  dull  crash,  hauled  back 
one  foot  and  kicked  the  senseless  man  iiull  in  the 
mangled,  blood-smeared  face. 

A  communal  gasp  of  terror  rose  up  then.  Men 
shrank  and  quivered,  stricken  with  almost  superstitious 
fear.  All  had  seen  fights  aplenty;  most  of  them  had 
taken  a  hand  in  brawls  —  but  here  was  a  new  kind  of 
malice.  And  silence  fell,  tense,  heart-searching. 

Hal  faced  the  outraged  throng,  and  laughed  with 
deep  lungs. 

"  There's  your  champion,  what's  left  of  him!  "  cried 
he.  "  He  won't  bullyrag  anybody  for  one  while,  be 
lieve  me.  Take  him  —  I'm  through  with  him !  " 

Of  a  sudden  the  rage  seemed  to  die  in  Hal,  spent  in 
that  last,  orgiastic  convulsion  of  passion.  He  turned 
away,  flung  men  right  and  left,  and  leaped  down  the 
companion.  Swiftly  he  emerged  with  a  suitcase.  To 
his  trembling,  half-fainting  grandfather  he  strode,  un 
mindful  of  the  murmur  of  curses  and  threats  against 
him. 

"  Come  on,  grandpop !  "  he  said  in  a  more  normal 
tone.  His  voice  did  not  tremble,  as  will  the  voice  of 
almost  every  man  after  a  storm  of  rage.  His  color 
was  fresh  and  high,  his  eyes  clear;  his  whole  ego 
seemed  to  have  been  vivified  and  freshened,  like  a  sky 
after  tempest.  "  Come  along,  now.  I've  had  enough 
of  this  rotten  old  hulk.  I've  given  it  what  it  needed,  a 
good  clean-up.  Come  on !  " 

He  seized  Captain  Briggs  by  the  elbow  —  for  the 


HAL  SHOWS  HIS  TEETH  143 

old  man  could  hardly  stand,  and  now  was  leaning 
against  the  hatchway  housing  —  and  half  guided,  half 
dragged  him  over  the  rail  to  the  wharf. 

"  Shame  on  you,  Hal  Briggs !  "  exclaimed  an  old 
lobsterman.  "  This  here's  a  bad  day's  work  you've 
done.  When  he  was  down,  you  booted  him.  We 
wun't  fergit  it,  none  of  us  wun't." 

"  No,  and  he  won't  forget  it,  either,  the  bragging 
bucko!  "  sneered  Hal.  "  Uncle  Silas,  you  keep  out  of 
this!" 

"  Ef  that's  what  they  1'arn  ye  down  to  college," 
sounded  another  voice,  "  you'd  a  durn  sight  better  stay 
to  hum.  We  fight  some,  on  the  North  Shore,  but  we 
fight  fair." 

Hal  faced  around,  with  blazing  eyes. 

"  Who  said  that?  "  he  gritted.  "  Where's  the  son 
of  a  pup  that  said  it?  " 

No  answer.  Cowed,  everybody  held  silence.  No 
sound  was  heard  save  the  shuffling  feet  of  the  men 
aboard,  as  some  of  the  crew  lifted  McLaughlin's  limp 
form  and  carried  it  toward  the  companion,  just  as 
Crevay  had  been  carried  on  the  Silver  Fleece,  half  a 
century  before. 

"  Come  on,  gramp !  "  exclaimed  Hal.  "  For  two 
cents  I'd  clean  up  the  whole  white-livered  bunch.  Let's 
go  home,  now,  before  there's  trouble." 

"I  —  I'm  afraid  I  can't  walk,  Hal,"  quavered  the 
old  man.  "  This  has  knocked  me  galley-west.  My 
rudder's  unshipped  and  my  canvas  in  rags.  I  can't 
navigate  at  all."  He  was  trembling  as  with  a  chill. 
Against  his  grandson  he  leaned,  ashen-faced,  helpless. 
"  I  can't  make  Snug  Haven,  now." 

"  That's  all  right,  grampy,"  Hal  assured  him. 
"We'll  dig  up  a  jitney  if  you  can  get  as  far  as  the 
street.  Come  on,  let's  move !  " 

With  unsteady  steps,  clinging  to  Hal's  arm  and  fol- 


144  CURSED 

lowed  by  the  dog,  old  Captain  Briggs  made  his  way  up 
Hadlock's  Wharf.  Only  a  few  minutes  had  elapsed 
since  he  had  strode  so  proudly  down  that  wharf,  but 
what  a  vast  difference  had  been  wrought  in  the  cap 
tain's  soul !  All  the  glad  elation  of  his  heart  had  now 
faded  more  swiftly  than  a  tropic  sunset  turns  to  dark. 
The  old  man  seemed  to  have  shrunken,  collapsed. 
Fifteen  little  minutes  seemed  to  have  bowed  down  his 
shoulders  with  at  least  fifteen  years. 

"  Oh,  Hal,  Hal!  "  he  groaned,  as  they  slowly  made 
their  way  towards  the  street.  "  Oh,  my  boy,  how  could 
you  ha'  done  that  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  ?  After  what  he  said,  how  couldn't 
I?" 

"  What  a  disgrace !  What  a  burning,  terrible  dis 
grace  !  You  —  just  back  from  college  — " 

"  There,  there,  grandpop,  it'll  be  all  right.  Every- 
body'll  be  glad,  when  they  cool  off,  that  I  handed  it  to 
that  bully." 

"  This  will  make  a  terrible  scandal.  The  Observer 
will  print  it,  and  — " 

"  Nonsense !  You  don't  think  they'd  waste  paper 
on  a  little  mix-up  aboard  a  coasting-schooner,  do 
you?" 

"  This  is  more  than  a  little  mix-up,  Hal.  You've 
stove  that  man's  hull  up,  serious.  There's  more  storm 
brewing." 

"  What  d'you  mean,  more  storm  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he'll  take  this  to  court.  He'll  sue  for  dam 
ages." 

"  He'd  better  not !  "  snapped  Hal,  grimly.  "  I've 
got  more  for  him,  where  what  I  handed  him  came  from, 
if  he  tries  it !  " 

"  Hal,  you're  —  breaking  my  old  heart." 

"  D'you  think,  grandpa,  I  was  going  to  stand  there 
and  swallow  his  insults?  Do  you  think  I,  a  Briggs, 


HAL  SHOWS  HIS  TEETH  145 

was  going  to  let  that  slab-sided  P.  I.  hand  me  that 
rough  stuff?  Would  you  have  stood  for  it?  " 

"1?  What  do  you  mean?  How  could  I  fight,  at 
my  age?  " 

"  1  mean,  when  you  were  young.  Didn't  you  ever 
mix  it,  then?  Didn't  you  have  guts  enough  to  put  up 
your  fists  when  you  had  to?  If  you  didn't,  you're  no 
grandfather  of  mine!  " 

"  Hal,"  answered  the  old  man,  still  holding  to  his 
grandson  as  they  neared  the  street,  "  what  course  I 
sailed  in  my  youth  is  nothing  for  you  to  steer  by  now. 
Those  were  rough  days,  and  these  are  supposed  to  be 
civilized.  That  was  terrible,  terrible,  what  you  did  to 
McLaughlin.  The  way  you  flung  him  across  the  rail, 
there,  and  then  to  the  deck,  and  —  kicked  him,  when  he 
was  down  —  kicked  him  in  the  face — " 

"  It's  all  right,  I  tell  you!  "  Hal  asserted,  vigorously. 
He  laughed,  with  glad  remembrance.  "  When  I  fight 
a  gentleman,  I  fight  like  a  gentleman.  When  I  fight  a 
ruffian,  I  use  the  same  tactics.  That's  all  such  cattle 
understand.  My  motto  is  to  hit  first,  every  time. 
That's  the  one  best  bet.  The  second  is,  hit  hard.  If 
you're  in  a  scrap,  you're  in  it  to  win,  aren't  you? 
Hand  out  everything  you've  got  —  give  'em  the  whole 
bag  of  tricks,  all  at  one  wallop.  That's  what  7  go  by, 
and  it's  a  damn  good  rule.  You,  there!  Hey,  there, 
jitney!  " 

The  discussion  broke  off,  short,  as  Hal  sighted  a  lit 
tle  car,  cruising  slowly  and  with  rattling  joints  over 
the  rough-paved  cobbles. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   CAPTAIN    COMMANDS 

The  jitney  stopped. 

"  Oh,  hello,  Sam !  That  you  ?  "  asked  Hal,  recog 
nizing  the  driver. 

"  Horn  spoon !  Ef  it  ain't  Hal !  "  exclaimed  the 
jitney-man.  "Back  ag'in,  eh?  What  the  devil  you 
been  up  to?  Shirt  tore,  an'  one  eye  looks  like  you'd 
been—" 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  Hal  answered,  while  certain  tag- 
gers-on  stopped  at  a  respectful  distance.  "  I've  just 
been  arguing  with  McLaughlin,  aboard  the  Sylvia 
Fletcher.  It's  nothing  at  all."  He  helped  his  grand 
father  into  the  car  and  then,  gripping  the  Airedale  so 
that  it  yelped  with  pain,  he  pitched  it  in.  "  How  much 
do  you  want  to  take  us  down  to  Snug  Haven?" 

"  Well  —  that'll  be  a  dollar  'n'  a  half,  seein'  it's  you." 

"  You'll  get  one  nice,  round  little  buck,  Sam." 

"  Git  out !  You,  an'  the  cap'n,  an'  the  dog,  an'  a 
tussik!  Why—" 

Hal  climbed  into  the  car.  He  leaned  forward,  his 
face  close  to  Sam's.  The  seethe  of  rage  seemed  to 
have  departed.  Now  Hal  was  all  joviality.  Swiftly 
the  change  had  come  upon  him. 

"  Sam !  "  he  admonished.  "  You  know  perfectly 
well  seventy-five  cents  would  be  robbery,  but  I'll  give 
you  a  dollar.  Put  her  into  high." 

The  driver  sniffed  Hal's  breath,  and  nodded  accept 
ance. 

146 


THE  CAPTAIN  COMMANDS  147 

"  All  right,  seein'  as  it's  you,"  he  answered.  He 
added,  in  a  whisper :  "  Ain't  got  nothin'  on  y'r  hip,  have 
ye?" 

"  Nothing  but  a  bruise,"  said  Hal.     "Clk-clk!" 

The  jitney  struck  its  bone-shaking  gait  along  the 
curving  street  of  Endicutt.  No  one  spoke.  The  old 
captain,  spent  in  forces  and  possessed  by  bitter,  strange 
hauntings,  had  sunk  far  down  in  the  seat.  His  beard 
made  a  white  cascade  over  the  smart  blue  of  his  coat. 
His  eyes,  half-closed,  seemed  to  be  visioning  the  far- 
off  days  he  had  labored  so  long  to  forget.  His  face 
was  gray  with  suffering,  beneath  its  tan.  His  lips 
had  set  themselves  in  a  grim,  tight  line. 

As  for  Hal,  he  filled  and  lighted  his  pipe,  then  with 
a  kind  of  bored  tolerance  eyed  the  quaint  old  houses, 
the  gardens  and  trim  hedges. 

"  Some  burg !  "  he  murmured.  "  Some  live  little 
burg  to  put  in  a  whole  summer!  Well,  anyhow,  I 
started  something.  They  ought  to  hand  me  a  medal, 
for  putting  a  little  pep  into  this  prehistoric  graveyard." 

Then  he  relapsed  into  contemplative  smoking. 

Presently  the  town  gave  place  to  the  open  road  along 
the  shore,  now  bathed  in  a  thousand  lovely  hues  as 
sunset  died.  The  slowly  fading  beauty  of  the  seascape 
soothed  what  little  fever  still  remained  in  Hal's  blood. 
With  an  appreciative  eye  he  observed  the  harbor.  The 
town  itself  might  seem  dreary,  but  in  his  soul  the  in 
stinctive  love  of  the  sea  awoke  to  the  charms  of  that 
master-panorama  which  in  all  its  infinite  existence  has 
never  twice  shown  just  the  same  blending  of  hues,  of 
motion,  of  refluent  ebb  and  fall. 

Along  the  dimming  islands,  swells  were  breaking  into 
great  bouquets  of  foam.  The  murmurous,  watery  cry 
of  the  surf  lulled  Hal ;  its  booming  cadences  against  the 
rocky  girdles  of  the  coast  seemed  whispering  alluring, 
mysterious  things  to  him.  In  the  offing  a  few  faint 


148  CURSED 

specks  of  sail,  melting  in  the  purple  haze,  beckoned: 
"  Come  away,  come  away !  " 

To  Captain  Briggs  quite  other  thoughts  were  coming. 
Not  now  could  the  lure  of  his  well-loved  ocean  appeal 
to  him,  for  all  the  wonders  of  the  umber  and  dull  or 
ange  west.  Where  but  an  hour  ago  beauty  had  spread 
its  miracles  across  the  world,  for  him,  now  all  had 
turned  to  drab.  A  few  faint  twinkles  of  light  were 
beginning  to  show  in  fishers'  cottages ;  and  these,  too, 
saddened  the  old  captain,  for  they  minded  him  of  Snug 
Haven's  waiting  lights  —  Snug  Haven,  where  he  had 
hoped  so  wonderfully  much,  but  where  now  only 
mournful  disillusion  and  bodings  of  evil  remained. 

The  ceaseless  threnody  of  the  sea  seemed  to  the  old 
man  a  requiem  over  dead  hopes.  The  salt  tides  seemed 
to  mock  and  gibe  at  him,  and  out  of  the  pale  haze  drift 
ing  seaward  from  the  slow-heaving  waters,  ghosts 
seemed  beckoning. 

All  at  once  Hal  spoke,  his  college  slang  rudely  jar 
ring  the  old  captain's  melancholy. 

"  That  was  some  jolt  I  handed  Mac,  wasn't  it?  "  he 
laughed.  "  He'll  be  more  careful  who  he  picks  on  next 
time.  That's  about  what  he  needed,  a  good  wallop- 
ing." 

"  Eh  ?  What  ?  "  murmured  the  old  man,  roused 
from  sad  musings. 

"  Such  people  have  to  get  it  handed  to  them  once  in 
a  while,"  the  grandson  continued.  "  There's  only  one 
kind  of  argument  they  understand  —  and  that's  this !  " 

He  raised  his  right  fist,  inspected  it,  turning  it  this 
way  and  that,  admiring  its  massive  power,  its  adaman 
tine  bone  and  sinew. 

"  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake,  Hal,  don't  do  that !  "  ex 
claimed  the  captain.  With  strange  eyes  he  peered  at 
the  young  man. 

Hal  laughed  uproariously. 


THE  CAPTAIN  COMMANDS  149 

"  Some  fist,  what?  "  he  boasted.     "  Some  pacifier!  " 

As  he  turned  toward  the  old  man,  his  breath  smote 
the  captain's  senses. 

"  Lord,  Hal !  You  haven't  been  drinking,  have 
you  ?  "  quavered  Briggs. 

"  Drinking?  Well  —  no.  Maybe  I've  had  one  or 
two,  but  that's  all." 

"  One  or  two  what,  Hal?  " 

"  Slugs  of  rum." 

"Rum!     Good  God!" 

"  What's  the  matter,  now?  What's  the  harm  in  a 
drop  of  good  stimulant?  I  asked  him  for  a  drink,  and 
he  couldn't  see  it,  the  tightwad!  I  took  it,  anyhow. 
That's  what  started  all  the  rough-house." 

"  Great  heavens,  Hal !  D'  you  mean  to  tell  me 
you're  drinking,  now  ?  " 

"  There,  there,  gramp,  don't  get  all  stewed  up.  All 
the  fellows  take  a  drop  now  and  then.  You  don't  want 
me  to  be  a  molly-coddle,  do  you?  To  feel  I  can't  take 
a  nip,  once  in  a  while,  and  hold  it  like  a  gentleman? 
That's  all  foolishness,  grampy.  Be  sensible !  " 

The  old  man  began  to  shiver,  though  the  off-shore 
breeze  blew  warm*  Hal  made  a  grimace  of  vexation. 
His  grandfather  answered  nothing,  and  once  more 
silence  fell.  It  lasted  till  the  first  scatteri-ng  houses  of 
South  Endicutt  came  into  view  in  the  fading  light. 

The  driver,  throwing  a  switch,  sent  his  headlights 
piercing  the  soft  June  dusk.  The  cones  of  radiance 
painted  the  roadside  grass  a  vivid  green,  and  made  the 
white-washed  fences  leap  to  view.  Hedges,  gardens, 
gable-ends,  all  spoke  of  home  and  rest,  peace  and  the 
beatitude  of  snug  security.  Somewhere  the  sound  of 
children's  shouts  and  laughter  echoed  appealingly. 
The  tinkle  of  a  cow-bell  added  its  music;  and  faint  in 
the  western  sky,  the  evening  star  looked  down. 

And  still  Captain  Briggs  held  silent. 


150  CURSED 

A  little  red  gleam  winked  in  view  —  the  port  light 
of  Snug  Haven. 

"There's  the  old  place,  isn't  it?"  commented  Hal, 
in  a  softer  tone.  He  seemed  moved  to  gentler 
thoughts;  but  only  for  a  moment.  His  eye,  catching 
a  far,  white  figure  away  down  by  the  smithy,  bright 
ened  with  other  anticipations  than  of  getting  home 
again. 

"Hello!"  he  exclaimed.  "That's  Laura,  isn't  it? 
Look,  gramp  —  isn't  that  Laura  Maynard  ?  " 

Peering,  Captain  Briggs  recognized  the  girl.  He 
understood  her  innocent  little  subterfuge  of  being  out 
for  a  casual  stroll  just  at  this  time.  His  heart,  already 
lacerated,  contracted  with  fresh  pain. 

"No,  no,  Hal,"  he  exclaimed.  "That  can't  be 
Laura.  Come  now,  don't  be  thinking  about  Laura,  to 
night.  You're  tired,  and  ought  to  rest." 

"  Tired  ?  Say,  that's  a  good  one !  When  was  I 
ever  tired?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  tired,  anyhow,"  the  captain  insisted, 
"  and  I  want  to  cast  anchor  at  the  Haven.  We've  got 
company,  too.  It  wouldn't  look  polite,  if  you  went 
gallivanting  — " 

"  Company?  What  company?  "  demanded  Hal,  as 
the  car  drew  up  toward  the  gate. 

"  A  very  special  friend  of  mine.  A  man  I  haven't 
seen  in  fifty  years.  An  old  doctor  that  once  sailed 
with  me.  He's  waiting  to  see  you,  now." 

"Another  old  pill,  eh?"  growled  the  boy,  sullenly, 
his  eyes  still  fixed  on  the  girl  at  the  bend  of  the  road. 
"  There'll  be  time  enough  for  Methuselah,  later.  Just 
now,  it's  me  for  the  skirt !  " 

The  car  halted.  The  captain  stiffly  descended.  He 
felt  singularly  spent  and  old.  Hal  threw  out  the 
suit-case,  and  lithely  leaped  to  earth. 

"  Dig  up   a  bone   for   Sam,   here,"   directed   Hal. 


THE  CAPTAIN  COMMANDS  151 

"  Now,  I'll  be  on  my  way  to  overhaul  the  little  dame." 

"  Hal !     That's  not  Laura,  I  tell  you !  " 

"  You  can't  kid  me,  grampy !  That's  the  school- 
ma'm,  all  right.  I'd  know  her  a  mile  off.  She's  some 
chicken,  take  it  from  me !  " 

"  Hal,  I  protest  against  such  language !  " 

"Oh,  too  rough,  eh?"  sneered  the  boy.  "Now  in 
your  day,  I  suppose  you  used  more  refined  English, 
didn't  you?  Maybe  you  called  them  — " 

"Hal!     That  will  do!" 

"  So  will  Laura,  for  me.  She's  mine,  that  girl  is. 
She's  plump  as  a  young  porpoise,  and  I'm  going  after 
her!" 

The  captain  stood  aghast,  at  sound  of  words  that 
echoed  from  the  very  antipodes  of  the  world  and  of  his 
own  life.  Then,  with  a  sudden  rush  of  anger,  his  face 
reddening  formidably,  he  exclaimed: 

"  Not  another  word !  You've  been  drinking,  and 
you're  dirty  and  torn  —  no  fit  man,  to-night,  to  haul  up 
'longside  that  craft !  " 

"  I  tell  you,  I'm  going  down  there  to  say  good  eve 
ning  to  Laura,  anyhow,"  Hal  insisted,  sullenly.  "  I'm 
going!" 

'  You  are  not,  sir !  "  retorted  Briggs,  while  Sam,  in 
the  car,  grinned  with  enjoyment.  '  You're  not  going 
to  hail  Laura  Maynard  to-night !  Do  you  want  to  lose 
her  friendship  and  respect?  " 

"  Bull !  Women  like  a  little  rough  stuff,  now  and 
then.  This  '  Little  Rollo  '  business  is  played  out.  Go 
along  in,  if  you  want  to,  but  I'm  going  to  see  Laura." 

"  Hal,"  said  the  old  man,  a  new  tone  in  his  voice. 
"  This  is  carrying  too  much  canvas.  You'll  lose  some 
of  it  in  a  minute,  if  you  don't  reef.  I'm  captain  here, 
and  you're  going  to  take  my  orders,  if  it  comes  to  that. 
The  very  strength  you  boast  of  and  misuse  so  brutally 
is  derived  from  money  I  worked  a  lifetime  for,  at  sea, 


152  CURSED 

and  suffered  and  sinned  and  bled  and  almost  died  for !  " 
The  old  captain's  tone  rang  out  again  as  in  the  old, 
tempestuous  days  when  he  was  master  of  many  hard 
and  violent  men.  "  Now,  sir,  you're  going  to  obey  me, 
or  overside  you  go,  this  minute  —  and  once  you  go, 
you'll  never  set  foot  on  my  planks  again !  Pick  up 
your  dunnage,  sir,  and  into  the  Haven  with  you !  " 

"  Good  night! "  ejaculated  Hal,  staring.  Never 
had  the  old  man  thus  spoken  to  him.  Stung  to  anger, 
though  Hal  was,  he  dared  not  disobey.  Muttering, 
he  picked  up  the  suit-case.  The  dog,  glad  to  be  at 
home  once  more,  leaped  against  him.  With  an  oath, 
Hal  swung  the  suit-case;  the  Airedale,  yelping  with 
pain,  fawned  and  slunk  away. 

"  Into  the  Haven  with  you !  "  commanded  Briggs, 
outraged  to  his  very  heart.  "  Go! " 

Hal  obeyed,  with  huge  shoulders  hulking  and  droop 
ing  in  their  plenitude  of  evil  power,  just  like  the  cap 
tain's,  so  very  long  ago.  Alpheus  Briggs  peered  down 
the  street  at  the  dim  white  figure  of  the  disappointed 
girl;  then,  eyes  agleam  and  back  very  straight,  he  fol 
lowed  Hal  toward  Snug  Haven  —  the  Haven  which  in 
such  beatitude  of  spirit  he  had  left  but  an  hour  ago  — 
the  Haven  to  which,  filled  with  so  many  evil  bodings, 
he  now  was  coming  back  again. 

"  Oh,  God,"  he  murmured,  "  if  this  thing  must  come 
upon  me,  Thy  will  be  done!  But  if  it  can  be  turned 
aside,  spare  me!  Spare  me,  for  this  is  all  my  life  and 
all  my  hope !  Spare  me !  " 


CHAPTER  XXI 

SPECTERS   OF   THE   PAST 

Hal's  boots,  clumping  heavily  on  the  porch,  aroused 
the  captain  from  his  brief  revery  of  prayer.  Almost 
at  once  the  new  stab  of  pain  at  realization  that  Dr. 
Filhiol  must  see  Hal  in  this  disheveled,  half-drunken 
condition  brought  the  old  man  sharply  back  to  earth 
again.  Bitter  humiliation,  brutal  disillusionment,  sick 
ening  anti-climax !  The  captain  stifled  a  groan.  Fate 
seemed  dealing  him  a  blow  unreasonably  hard. 

A  chair  scraped  on  the  porch.  Briggs  saw  the  bent 
and  shriveled  form  of  Dr.  Filhiol  arising.  The  doc 
tor,  rendered  nervous  by  the  arsenal  and  by  the  cabinet 
of  curios,  which  all  too  clearly  recalled  the  past,  had 
once  more  gone  out  upon  the  piazza,  to  await  the  cap 
tain's  return.  Warmed  by  the  egg-nog  within,  and 
outwardly  by  a  shawl  that  Ezra  had  given  him,  now  he 
stood  there,  leaning  on  his  cane.  A  smile  of  anticipa 
tion  curved  his  shaven,  bloodless  lips.  His  eyes  blinked 
eagerly  behind  his  thick-lensed  glasses. 

"  Home  again,  eh?  "  he  piped.  "  Good!  So  then 
this  is  the  little  grandson  back  from  college?  Little! 
Ha-ha !  Why,  captain,  he'd  make  two  like  us !  " 

"  This  is  Hal,"  answered  the  captain  briefly.  "  Yes, 
this  is  my  grandson." 

The  doctor,  surprised  at  Briggs's  curt  reply,  put  out 
his  hand.  Hal  took  it  as  his  grandfather  spoke  the 
doctor's  name. 

"  Glad  to  know  you,  doctor  I "  said  he  in  a  sullen 
voice,  and  let  the  hand  drop.  "  Excuse  me,  please  1 
I'll  go  in  and  wash  up." 

i53 


iS4  CURSED 

He  turned  toward  the  door.  With  perturbation 
Filhiol  peered  after  him.  Then  he  glanced  at  the  cap 
tain.  Awkwardly  silence  fell,  broken  by  a  cry  of  joy 
from  the  front  door. 

"  Oh,  Master  Hal!  "  ejaculated  Ezra.  "  Ef  it  ain't 
Master  Hal!" 

The  servitor's  long  face  beamed  with  jubilation  as  he 
seized  the  suit-case  with  one  hand  and  with  the  other 
clapped  Hal  on  the  shoulder.  "  Jumpin'  jellyfish,  but 
you're  lookin'  fine  an'  stout!  Back  from  y'r  books, 
ain't  ye?  Ah,  books  is  grand  things,  Master  Hal, 
'specially  check-books,  pocketbooks,  an'  bank-books. 
Did  the  cap'n  tell  ye  ?  He  did,  didn't  he  ?  " 

"  Hello,  Ez !  "  answered  Hal,  still  very  glum.  "  Tell 
me  what  ?  " 

"  'Bout  the  plum-cake  an'  lamb?  "  asked  Ezra  anx 
iously  as  Hal  slid  past  him  into  the  house.  "  I  remem 
bered  what  you  like,  Master  Hal.  I  been  workin'  dog 
gone  hard  to  git  everythin'  jest  Ai  fer  you!" 

His  voice  grew  inaudible  as  he  followed  Hal  into 
Snug  Haven.  The  captain  and  the  doctor  gazed  at 
each  other  a  long,  eloquent  moment  in  the  vague  light. 
Neither  spoke.  Filhiol  turned  and  sat  down,  puzzled, 
oppressed. 

Briggs  wearily  sank  into  another  chair.  Hal's  feet 
stumbling  up  the  front  stairs  echoed  with  torment 
through  his  soul.  Was  that  the  stumbling  of  haste, 
or  had  the  boy  drunk  more  than  he  had  seemed  to? 
The  captain  dropped  his  cap  to  the  porch-floor.  Not 
now  did  he  take  pains  to  hang  it  on  top  of  the  rocking- 
chair.  He  wiped  his  forehead  with  his  silk  handker 
chief,  and  groaned. 

The  doctor  kept  silence.  He  understood  that  any 
word  of  his  would  prove  inopportune.  But  with  pity 
he  studied  the  face  of  Captain  Briggs,  its  lines  accentu 
ated  by  the  light  from  the  window  of  the  cabin. 


SPECTERS  OF  THE  PAST  155 

Presently  the  captain  sighed  deep  and  began : 

"  I'm  glad  you're  here  on  my  quarterdeck  with  me 
to-night,  doctor.  Things  are  all  going  wrong,  sir. 
Barometer's  way  down,  compass  is  bedeviled,  seams 
opening  fore  and  aft.  It's  bad,  doctor  —  very,  very 
bad!" 

"  I  see  there's  something  wrong,  of  course,"  said 
Filhiol  with  sympathy. 

"  Everything's  wrong,  sir.  That  grandson  of  mine 
• —  you  —  noticed  just  what  was  the  matter  with  him  ?  " 

"  H-m!  It's  rather  dark  here,  you  know,"  hedged 
Filhiol. 

"  Not  so  dark  but  what  you  understood,"  said  Briggs 
grimly.  "  When  there's  a  storm  brewing  no  good 
navigator  thinks  he  can  dodge  it  by  locking  himself  in 
his  cabin.  And  there  is  a  storm  brewing  this  time,  a 
hurricane,  sir,  or  I've  missed  all  signals." 

"  Just  what  do  you  mean,  captain  ?  " 

"  Violence,  drink,  women  —  wickedness  and  sin ! 
You  smelled  his  breath,  didn't  you?  You  took  an  ob 
servation  of  his  face?  " 

"  Well,  yes.  He's  been  drinking  a  little,  of  course; 
but  these  boys  in  college — " 

"  He  very  nigh  killed  the  skipper  of  the  Sylvia 
Fletcher,  and  there'll  be  the  devil  to  pay  about  it.  It 
•was  just  luck  there  wasn't  murder  done  before  my  very 
eyes.  He's  been  drinking  enough  so  as  to  wake  a 
black  devil  in  his  heart !  Enough  so  he's  like  a  roaring 
bull  after  the  first  pretty  girl  in  the  offing." 

"  There,  there,  captain ! "  The  doctor  tried  to 
soothe  him,  his  thin  voice  making  strange  contrast 
with  the  captain's  booming  bass.  "  You're  probably 
exaggerating.  A  little  exuberance  may  be  pardoned  in 
youth,"  his  expression  belied  his  words.  "  Remember, 
captain,  when  you  were  — " 

"  That's  just  what's  driving  me  on  the  rocks  with 


156  CURSED 

grief  and  despair!"  the  old  man  burst  out,  gripping 
the  arms  of  the  rocker.  "  God  above!  It's  just  the 
realization  of  my  own  youth,  flung  back  at  me  now, 
that's  like  to  kill  me !  That  boy,  so  help  me  —  why, 
he's  thrown  clean  back  fifty  years  all  at  ojie  crack !  " 

"  No,  no,  not  that !  " 

"  He  has,  I  tell  you!  He's  jumped  back  half  a  cen 
tury.  He  don't  belong  in  this  age  of  airplanes  and 
wireless.  He  belongs  back  with  the  clipper-ships 
and—" 

"  Nonsense,  captain,  and  you  know  it !  " 

"  It's  far  from  nonsense !  There's  a  bad  strain 
somewhere  in  my  blood.  I've  been  afraid  a  long  time 
it  was  going  to  crop  out  in  Hal.  There's  always  been 
a  tradition  in  my  family  of  evil  doings  now  and  then. 
I  don't  know  anything  certain  about  it,  though,  except 
that  my  grandfather,  Amalfi  Briggs,  died  of  bursting  a 
blood-vessel  in  his  brain  in  a  fit  of  rage.  That  was  all 
that  saved  him  from  being  a  murderer  —  he  died  be 
fore  he  could  kill  the  other  man !  " 

Silence  came,  save  for  the  piping  whistle  of  an  urchin 
far  up  the  road.  The  ever-rising,  falling  suspiration 
of  the  sea  breathed  its  long  caress  across  the  land,  on 
which  a  vague,  pale  sheen  of  starlight  was  descending. 

Suddenly,  from  abovestairs,  sounded  a  dull,  slam 
ming  sound  as  of  a  bureau-drawer  violently  shut.  An 
other  slam  followed;  and  now  came  a  grumbling  of 
muffled  profanity. 

"  All  that  saved  m.y  grandfather  from  being  a  mur 
derer,"  said  Briggs  dourly,  "  was  the  fact  that  he 
dropped  dead  himself  before  he  could  cut  down  the 
other  man  with  the  ship-carpenter's  adze  he  had  in  his 
hand." 

"  Indeed  ?  Your  grandfather  must  have  been  rather 
a  hard  specimen." 

"  Only  when  he  was  in  anger.     At  other  times  you 


SPECTERS  OF  THE  PAST  157 

never  saw  a  more  jovial  soul !  But  rage  made  a  beast 
of  him!" 

"  How  was  your  father?  " 

"  Not  that  way  in  the  least.  He  was  as  consistently 
Christian  a  man  as  ever  breathed.  My  son  —  Hal's 
father  —  was  a  good  man,  too.  Not  a  sign  of  that 
sort  of  brutality  ever  showed  in  him." 

"  I  think  you're  worrying  unnecessarily,"  judged  the 
doctor.  "  Your  grandson  may  be  wild  and  rough  at 
times,  but  he's  tainted  with  no  hereditary  stain." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  doctor,"  said  the  captain 
earnestly.  "  For  a  year  or  two  past  he's  been  showing 
more  temper  than  a  young  man  should.  He's  not 
been  answering  the  helm  very  well.  Two  or  three  of 
the  village  people  here  have  already  complained  to  me. 
I've  never  been  really  afraid  till  to-night.  But  now, 
doctor,  I  am  afraid  —  terribly,  deadly  afraid!" 

The  old  man's  voice  shook.     Filhiol  tried  to  smile. 

"  Let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead !  "  said  he.  "  Don't 
open  the  old  graves  to  let  the  ghosts  of  other  days  walk 
out  again  into  the  clear  sunset  of  your  life." 

"  God  knows  I  don't  want  to !  "  the  old  man  ex 
claimed  in  a  low,  trembling  voice.  "  But  suppose 
those  graves  open  themselves?  Suppose  they  won't 
stay  shut,  no,  not  though  all  the  good  deeds  from  here 
to  heaven  were  piled  atop  of  them,  to  keep  them  down? 
Suppose  those  ghosts  rise  up  and  stare  me  in  the  eyes 
and  won't  be  banished  —  what  then  ?  " 

"  Stuff  and  nonsense !  "  gibed  Filhiol,  though  his 
voice  was  far  from  steady.  "  You're  not  yourself, 
captain.  You're  unnerved.  There's  nothing  the 
matter  with  that  boy  except  high  spirits  and  overflow 
ing  animal  passions." 

"  No,  no !  I  understand  only  too  well.  God  is  be 
ing  very  hard  to  me!  I  sinned  grievous,  in  the  long 
ago !  But  I've  done  my  very  best  to  pay  the  reckoning. 


158  CURSED 

Seems  like  I  haven't  succeeded.  Seems  like  God  don't 
forget !  He's  paying  me  now,  with  interest !  " 

"  Captain,  you  exaggerate !  "  the  doctor  tried  to  as 
sure  him,  but  Briggs  shook  his  head. 

"Heredity  skips  that  way  sometimes,  don't  it?" 
asked  he. 

"  Well  —  sometimes.  But  that  doesn't  prove  any 
thing." 

"  No,  it  don't  prove  anything,  but  what  Hal  did  to 
night  does!  Would  a  thing  like  that  come  on  sudden 
that  way  ?  Would  it  ?  A  kind  of  hydrophobia  of  rage 
that  won't  listen  to  any  reason  but  wants  to  break  and 
tear  and  kill?  I  mean,  if  that  kind  of  thing  was  in 
the  blood,  could  it  lay  hid  a  long  time  and  then  all  of  a 
sudden  burst  out  like  that  ?  " 

"Well  — yes.     It  might." 

"  I  seem  to  remember  it  was  the  same  with  me  the 
first  time  I  ever  had  one  of  those  mad  fits,"  said  the 
captain.  "  It  come  on  quick.  It  wasn't  like  ordinary 
getting  mad.  It  was  a  red  torrent,  delirious  and  awful 
—  something  that  caught  me  up  and  carried  me  along 
on  its  wave  —  something  I  couldn't  fight  against. 
When  I  saw  Hal  with  his  teeth  grinning,  eyes  glassy, 
fists  red  with  McLaughlin's  blood,  oh,  it  struck  clean 
through  my  heart ! 

"  It  wasn't  any  fear  of  either  of  them  getting  killed 
that  harpooned  me,  no,  nor  complications  and  damages 
to  pay.  No,  no,  though  such  will  be  bad  enough. 
What  struck  me  all  of  a  heap  was  to  see  myself,  my 
very  own  self  that  used  to  be.  If  I,  Captain  Alpheus 
Briggs,  had  been  swept  back  to  1868  and  set  down  on 
the  deck  of  the  Silver  Fleece,  Hal  would  have  been  my 
exact  double.  I've  seen  myself  just  as  I  was  then, 
doctor,  and  it*s  shaken  me  in  every  timber.  There  I 
stood,  I,  myself,  in  Hal's  person,  after  five  decades  of 
weary  time.  I  could  see  the  outlines  of  the  same  black 


SPECTERS  OF  THE  PAST  159 

beard  on  the  same  kind  of  jaw  —  same  thick  neck  and 
bloody  fists;  and,  oh,  doctor,  the  eyes  of  Hal.  His 
eyes !  " 

"  His  eyes?" 

"  Yes.  In  them  I  saw  my  old,  wicked,  hell-elected 
self  —  saw  it  glaring  out,  to  break  and  ravish  and 
murder !  " 

"  Captain  Briggs !  " 

"  It's  true,  I'm  telling  you.  I've  seen  a  ghost  this 
evening.  A  ghost — " 

He  peered  around  fearfully  in  the  dusk.  His  voice 
lowered  to  a  whisper : 

"A  ghost!" 

Filhiol  eould  not  speak.  Something  cold,  prehen 
sile,  terrible  seemed  fingering  at  his  heart!  Ruddy, 
the  Airedale,  raised  his  head,  seemed  to  be  listening,  to 
be  seeing  something  they  could  not  detect.  In  the 
dog's  throat  a  low  growl  muttered. 

"  What's  that?  "  said  the  captain,  every  muscle  taut. 

"  Nothing,  nothing,"  the  doctor  answered.  "  The 
dog  probably  hears  some  one  down  there  by  the  hedge. 
This  is  all  nonsense,  captain.  You're  working  yourself 
into  a  highly  nervous  state  and  imagining  all  kinds  of 
things.  Now  — 

"  I  tell  you,  I  saw  the  ghost  of  my  other  self,"  in 
sisted  Briggs.  "  There's  worse  kinds  of  ghosts  than 
those  that  hang  around  graveyards.  I've  always 
wanted  to  see  that  kind  and  never  have.  Night  after 
night  I've  been  up  there  to  the  little  cemetery  on  Croft 
Hill,  and  sat  on  the  bench  in  our  lot,  just  as  friendly 
and  receptive  as  could  be,  ready  to  see  whatever  ghost 
might  come  to  me,  but  none  ever  came.  I'm  not  afraid 
of  the  ghosts  of  the  dead!  It's  ghosts  of  the  living 
that  strike  a  dread  to  me  —  ghosts  of  the  past  that 
ought  to  die  and  can't  —  ghosts  of  my  own  sins  that 
God  won't  let  lie  in  the  grave  of  forgiveness  — " 


160  CURSED 

"  S-h-h-h!"  exclaimed  the  doctor.  He  laid  a  hand 
on  the  captain's,  which  was  clutching  the  arm  of  the 
rocker  with  a  grip  of  steel.  "  Don't  give  way  to  such 
folly !  Perhaps  Hal  did  drink  a  little,  and  perhaps  he 
did  thrash  a  man  who  had  insulted  him.  But  that's 
as  far  as  it  goes.  All  this  talk  about  ghosts  and  some 
hereditary,  devilish  force  cropping  out  again,  is  pure 
rubbish!" 

"  I  wish  to  God  above  it  was! "  the  old  man  groaned. 
"  But  I  know  it's  not.  It's  there,  doctor,  I  tell  you ! 
It's  still  alive  and  in  the  world,  more  terrible  and  more 
malignant  than  ever,  a  living,  breathing  thing,  evil 
and  venomous,  backed  up  with  twice  the  intelligence 
and  learning  I  ever  had,  with  a  fine,  keen  brain  to  di 
rect  it  and  with  muscles  of  steel  to  do  its  bidding! 
Oh,  God,  I  know,  I  know! " 

"  Captain  Briggs,  sir,"  the  doctor  began.  "  This  is 
most  extraordinary  language  from  a  man  of  your  com 
mon  sense.  I  really  do  not  understand  — " 

"  Hush !  "  interrupted  the  captain,  raising  his  right 
hand.  On  the  stairway  feet  echoed.  "  Hush !  He's 
coming  down !  " 

Silent,  tense,  they  waited.  The  heavy  footfalls 
reached  the  bottom  of  the  stair  and  paused  there  a 
moment.  Briggs  and  the  doctor  heard  Hal  grumbling 
something  inarticulate  to  himself.  Then  he  walked 
into  the  cabin. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

DR.    FILHIOL  STANDS   BY 

Through  the  window  both  men  could  see  him.  The 
cabin-lamp  over  the  captain's  table  shed  soft  rays  upon 
the  boy  as  he  stood  there  unconscious  of  being  ob 
served. 

He  remained  motionless  a  moment,  gazing  about 
him,  taking  account  of  any  little  changes  that  had 
been  wrought  in  the  past  months.  At  sight  of  him  the 
old  captain,  despite  all  his  bodings  of  evil,  could  not  but 
thrill  with  pride  of  this  clean-limbed,  powerful-shoul 
dered  grandson,  scion  of  the  old  stock,  last  survivor  of 
his  race,  and  hope  of  all  its  future. 

Hal  took  a  step  to  the  table.  The  lithe  ease  and 
power  of  his  stride  impressed  the  doctor's  critical  eye. 

"  He's  all  right  enough,  captain,"  growled  Filhiol. 
"  He's  as  normal  as  can  be.  He's  just  overflowing 
with  animal  spirits,  strength,  and  energy.  Lord! 
What  wouldn't  you  or  I  give  to  be  like  that  —  again  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  stand  in  those  boots  of  his  for  all  the 
money  in  Lloyd's !  "  returned  the  captain  in  a  hoarse 
whisper.  "  For  look  you,  doctor,  I  have  lived  my  life 
and  got  wisdom.  My  fires  have  burned  low,  leaving 
the  ashes  of  peace  —  or  so  I  hope.  But  that  lad  there, 
ah !  there's  fires  and  volcanoes  enough  ahead  for  him  \ 
Maybe  those  same  fires  will  kindle  up  my  ashes,  too, 
and  sear  my  heart  and  soul !  I  thought  I  was  entitled 
to  heave  anchor  and  lay  in  harbor  a  spell  till  I  get  my 
papers  for  the  unknown  port  we  don't  any  of  us  come 

161 


i'62  CURSED 

back  from,  but  maybe  I'm  mistaken.  Maybe  that's  not 
to  be,  doctor,  after  all." 

"  What  rubbish !  "  retorted  Filhiol.  "  Look  at  him 
now,  will  you  ?  Isn't  he  peaceful,  and  normal  enough 
for  anybody?  See  there,  now,  he's  going  to  take  a 
book  and  read  it  like  any  well-behaved  young  man." 

Hal  had,  indeed,  taken  a  book  from  the  captain's 
table  and  had  sat  down  with  it  before  the  fireplace. 
He  did  not,  however,  open  the  book.  Instead,  he 
leaned  back  and  gazed  intently  up  at  the  arsenal.  He 
frowned,  nodded,  and  then  broke  into  a  peculiar  smile. 
His  right  fist  clenched  and  rose,  as  if  in  imagination  he 
were  gripping  one  of  those  weapons,  with  Fergus  Mc- 
Laughlin  as  his  immediate  target. 

Silence  fell  once  more,  through  which  faintly  pene 
trated  the  far-off,  nasal  minor  of  old  Ezra,  now  en 
gaged  upon  an  endless  chantey  recounting  the  ad 
ventures  of  one  "  Boney  " — alias  Bonaparte.  Peace 
seemed  to  have  descended  upon  Snug  Haven,  but  only 
for  a  minute. 

For  all  at  once,  with  an  oath  of  impatience,  Hal 
flung  the  book  to  the  floor.  He  stood  up,  thrust  both 
hands  deep  into  his  pockets,  and  fell  to  pacing  the  floor 
in  a  poisonous  temper. 

Of  a  sudden  he  stopped,  wheeled  toward  the  cap 
tain's  little  private  locker  and  strode  to  it.  The  locker 
door  was  secured  with  a  brass  padlock  of  unusual 
strength.  Hal  twisted  it  off  between  thumb  and  finger 
as  easily  as  if  it  had  been  made  of  putty.  He  flung 
open  the  door,  and  took  down  a  bottle. 

He  seized  a  tumbler  and  slopped  it  levelful  of  whisky, 
which  he  gulped  without  a  wink.  Then  he  smeared  his 
mouth  with  the  back  of  his  hand  and  stood  there  evil- 
eyed  and  growling. 

"  Puh!  That's  rotten  stuff!"  he  ejaculated. 
"  Grandpop  certainly  does  keep  a  punk  line  here !  " 


DR.  FILHIOL  STANDS  BY  163 

Back  upon  the  shelf  he  slammed  the  bottle  and  the  glass. 
"  Wonder  where  that  smooth  Jamaica's  gone  he  used 
to  have?" 

"  God  above !  Did  you  see  that,  doctor  ?  "  breathed 
the  old  captain,  gripping  at  the  doctor's  hand.  "  He 
downed  that  like  so  much  water.  Isn't  that  the  exact 
way  I  used  to  swill  liquor?  By  the  Judas  priest,  I'll 
soon  stop  that! " 

Filhiol  restrained  him. 

"  Wait !  "  he  cautioned  as  the  two  old  men  peered  in, 
unseen,  through  the  window.  "  Even  that  doesn't 
prove  the  original  sin  you  seem  determined  to  lay  at 
the  boy's  door.  He's  unnerved  after  his  fight.  Let's 
see  what  he'll  do  next.  If  we're  going  to  judge  him, 
we've  got  to  watch  a  while." 

Old  Briggs  sank  back  into  his  chair,  and  with  eyes 
of  misery  followed  the  boy,  hope  of  all  his  dreams. 
Hal's  next  move  was  not  long  delayed. 

"  Ezra !  "  they  heard  him  harshly  call.  "  You, 
Ezra!  Come,  here!" 

The  chantey  came  to  a  sudden  end.  A  moment,  and 
Ezra  appeared  in  the  doorway  leading  from  the  cabin 
to  the  "  dining-saloon." 

"Well,  Master  Hal,  what  is  it?"  smiled  the  cook, 
beaming  with  affection.  In  one  hand  he  held  a  "  cop 
per,"  just  such  as  aboard  the  Silver  Fleece  had  heated 
water  for  the  scalding  of  the  Malays.  "  What  d'you 
want,  Master  Hal  ?  " 

"  Look  here,  Ezra,"  said  the  boy  arrogantly,  "  I've 
been  trying  to  find  the  rum  grandpop  always  keeps  in 
there.  Couldn't  locate  it,  so  I've  been  giving  this 
whisky  a  trial,  and  — " 

"  When  whisky  an'  young  men  lay  'long-side  one  an 
other,  the  whisky  don't  want  a  trial.  It  wants  lynch- 
in'  !  " 

"  I'm  not  asking  your  opinion !  "  sneered  Hal. 


164  CURSED 

"  Yes,  but  I'm  givin'  it,  Master  Hal,"  persisted  Ezra. 
"  When  the  devil  goes  fishin'  fer  boys,  he  sticks  a  pet 
ticoat  an'  a  bottle  o'  rum  on  the  hook." 

"  Get  me  the  Jamaica,  you !  "  demanded  Hal  with 
growing  anger.  "  I've  got  no  time  for  your  line  of 
bull !  " 

"  Lots  that  ain't  got  no  time  for  nothin'  in  this  world 
will  have  time  to  burn  in  the  next !  You'll  get  no  rum 
from  me,  Master  Hal.  An'  what's  more,  if  I'd  ha' 
thought  you  was  goin'  to  slip  your  cable  an'  run  ashore 
in  any  such  dognation  fool  way  on  a  wave  o'  booze,  I'd 
of  hid  the  whisky  whece  you  wouldn't  of  run  it 
down !  " 

"  You'd  have  hidden  it !  "  echoed  Hal,  his  face  dark 
ening,  the  veins  on  neck  and  forehead  beginning  to 
swell.  "  You've  got  the  infernal  nerve  to  stand  there 
—  you,  a  servant  —  and  tell  me  you'd  hide  anything 
away  from  me  in  my  own  house?  " 

"  This  here  craft  is  registered  under  your  grandpa's 
name  an'  is  sailin'  under  his  house-flag,"  the  old  cook 
reminded  him.  His  face  was  still  bland  as  ever,  but  in 
his  eyes  lurked  a  queer  little  gleam.  "  It  ain't  the  same 
thing  at  all  —  not  yet." 

"  Damn  your  infernal  lip!  "  shouted  Hal,  advancing. 
Captain  Briggs,  quivering,  half-rose  from  his  chair. 
"  You've  got  the  damned  impudence  to  stand  there  and 
dictate  to  me?  " 

"  Master  Hal,"  retorted  Ezra  with  admirable  self- 
restraint,  "  you're  sailin'  a  bit  too  wide  wide  o'  your 
course  now.  There's  breakers  ahead,  sir.  Look 
out!" 

"  I  believe  you've  been  at  the  Jamaica  yourself,  you 
thieving  son  of  Satan !  "  snarled  Hal.  "  I'll  not  stand 
here  parleying  with  a  servant.  Get  me  that  Jamaica, 
or  I'll  break  your  damned,  obstinate  neck !  " 

"  Now,  Master  Hal,  I  warn  you  — " 


DR.  FILHIOL  STANDS  BY  163 

"To  hell  with  you!" 

"  With  me,  Master  Hal  ?     With  old  Ezra?  " 

"  With  everything  that  stands  in  my  way !  " 

Despite  Hal's  furious  rage  the  steadfast  old  sailor- 
man  still  resolutely  faced  him.  Captain  Briggs,  now 
again  hearing  almost  the  identical  words  he  himself 
had  poured  out  in  the  cabin  of  the  Silver  Fleece,  sank 
back  into  his  chair  with  a  strange,  throaty  gasp. 

"  Doctor !  "  he  gulped.     "  Do  you  hear  that  ?  " 

"  Wait !  "  the  doctor  cautioned,  leaning  forward. 
"  This  is  very  strange.  It  is,  by  Jove,  sir !  Some 
amazing  coincidence,  or  — " 

"  Next  thing  you  know  he'll  knock  Ezra  down !  " 
whispered  the  captain,  staring.  He  seemed  paralyzed, 
as  though  tranced  by  the  scene.  "  That's  what  I  did  to 
the  cabin-boy,  when  my  rum  was  wrong.  Remember  ? 
It's  all  coming  round  again,  doctor.  It's  a  nightmare 
in  a  circle  —  a  fifty-year  circle !  Remember  Kuala 
Pahang  ?  She  —  she  died !  I  wonder  what  woman's 
got  to  die  this  time?  " 

"  That's  all  pure  poppycock !  "  the  doctor  ejaculated. 
He  was  trembling  violently.  With  a  great  effort,  lean 
ing  heavily  on  his  stick,  he  arose.  Captain  Briggs, 
too,  shook  off  the  spell  that  seemed  to  grip  him  and 
stood  up. 

"  Hal !  "  he  tried  to  articulate ;  but  his  voice  failed 
him.  Turning,  he  lurched  toward  the  front  door. 

From  within  sounded  a  cry,  a  trampling  noise. 
Something  clattered  to  the  floor. 

"Hal!  My  God,  Hal!"  the  captain  shouted 
hoarsely. 

As  he  reached  the  door  Ezra  came  staggering  out 
into  the  hall,  a  hand  pressed  to  his  face. 

"Ezra!  What  is  it?  For  Heaven's  sake,  Ezra, 
what's  Hal  done  to  you  ?  " 

The  old  man  could  make  no  answer.     Limply  he 


i66  CURSED 

sagged  against  the  newel-post,  a  sorry  picture  of  grief 
-and  pain.  The  captain  put  an  arm  about  his  shoulders, 
and  with  burning  indignation  cried: 

"What  did  he  do?     Hit  you?" 

Ezra  shook  his  head  in  stout  negation.  Even 
through  all  the  shock  and  suffering  of  the  blow,  his 
loyalty  remained  sublimely  constant. 

"  Hit  me?  Why,  no,  sir,"  he  tried  to  smile,  though 
his  lips  were  white.  "He  wouldn't  strike  old  Ezra. 
There's  no  mutiny  aboard  this  little  craft  of  ours. 
Two  gentlemen  may  disagree,  an'  all  that,  but  as  fer 
Master  Hal  strikin'  me,  no,  sir! " 

"  But  I  heard  him  say  — : 

"  Oh,  that's  nothin',  cap'n,"  the  old  cook  insisted, 
still,  however,  keeping  his  cheek-bone  covered  with  his 
hand.  "  Boys  will  be  boys.  They're  a  bit  loose  with 
their  jaw-tackle,  maybe.  But  there,  there,  don't  you 
git  all  har'red  up,  captain.  Men  an'  pins  is  jest  alike, 
that  way  —  no  good  ef  they  lose  their  heads.  Ca'ni 
down,  cap'n !  " 

"  What's  that  on  your  face.     Blood  ?  " 

"  Blood,  sir  ?  How  would  blood  git  on  my  doggone 
face,  anyhow?  That's  —  h-m — " 

"  Don't  you  lie  to  me,  Ezra !  I'm  not  blind.  He  cut 
you  with  something!  What  was  it?" 

"  Honest  to  God,  cap'n,  he  never !  I  admit  we  had 
a  bit  of  an  argyment,  an'  I  slipped  an'  kind  of  fell  ag'in' 
the  —  the  binnacle,  cap'n.  I'll  swear  that  on  the  ship's 
Bible!" 

"  Don't  you  stand  there  and  perjure  your  immortal 
soul  just  to  shield  that  boy!  "  Briggs  sternly  reproved, 
loving  the  old  man  all  the  more  for  the  brave  lie.  "  But 
I  know  you  will,  anyhow.  What  authority  have  I  got 
aboard  my  own  ship,  when  I  can't  even  get  the  truth  ? 
Ezra,  you  wouldn't  admit  it,  if  Hal  took  that  kris  in 
there  and  cut  your  head  off !  " 


DR.  FILHIOL  STANDS  BY  167 

"How  could  I  then,  sir?" 
'  That'll  do,  Ezra !     Where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir." 

"  I'll  damn  soon  find  out !  "  the  captain  cried,  stung 
to  the  first  profanity  of  years.  He  tramped  into  the 
cabin,  terrible. 

"  Come  here,  sir !  "  he  cried  in  a  tone  never  before 
heard  in  Snug  Haven. 

No  answer.  Hal  was  not  there.  Neither  was  the 
bottle  of  whisky.  A  chair  had  been  tipped  over,  and 
on  the  floor  lay  the  captain's  wonderful  chronometer, 
with  shattered  glass. 

This  destruction,  joined  to  Ezra's  innocent  blood, 
seemed  to  freeze  the  captain's  marrow.  He  stood  there 
a  moment,  staring.  Then,  wide-eyed,  he  peered 
around. 

"  Mutiny  and  bloodshed,"  he  whispered.  "  God  de 
liver  us  from  what's  to  be !  Hal  Briggs,  sir !  "  he 
called  crisply.  "  Come  here !  "  The  captain,  terrible 
in  wrath,  strode  through  the  open  door. 

A  creaking  of  the  back  stairs  constituted  the  only 
answer.  The  captain  hurried  up  those  stairs.  As  he 
reached  the  top  he  heard  the  door  of  Hal's  room  shut, 
and  the  key  turn. 

"  You,  sir !  "  he  cried,  knocking  violently  at  the 
panels.  A  voice  issued : 

"  It's  no  use,  gramp.  I'm  not  coming  out,  and 
you're  not  coming  in.  It's  been  nothing  but  hell  ever 
since  I  struck  this  damn  place.  If  it  doesn't  stop  I'm 
going  to  get  mad  and  do  some  damage  round  here. 
All  I  want  now  is  to  be  let  alone.  Go  'way,  and  don't 
bother  me !  " 

"  Hal !     Open  that  door,  sir !  " 

Never  a  word  came  back.  The  captain  knocked  and 
threatened,  but  got  no  reply. 

At  last,  realizing  that  he  was  only  lowering  his 


1 68  CURSED 

dignity  by  such  vain  efforts,  he  departed.  His  eyes 
glowered  strangely  as  he  made  his  way  downstairs. 

Ezra  had  disappeared.  But  the  old  doctor  was 
standing  in  the  hallway,  under  the  gleam  of  a  ship's 
lantern  there.  He  looked  very  wan  and  anxious. 

"  Captain,"  said  he,  with  timid  hesitation.  "  I  feel 
that  my  presence  may  add  to  your  embarrassment. 
Therefore,  I  think  I  had  best  return  to  Salem  this  eve 
ning.  If  you  will  ask  Ezra  to  harness  up  my  horse, 
I'll  be  much  obliged." 

"  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  doctor !  You're  my 
friend  and  my  guest,  and  you're  not  going  to  be  driven 
out  by  any  such  exhibition  of  brutal  bad  manners!  I 
ask  you,  sir,  to  stay.  I  haven't  seen  you  for  fifty  years, 
sir;  and  you  do  no  more  than  lay  'longside,  and  then 
want  to  hoist  canvas  again  and  beat  away?  Never, 
sir!  Here  you  stay,  to-night,  aboard  me.  There's  a 
cabin  and  as  nice  a  berth  as  any  seafaring  man  could 
ask.  Go  and  leave  me  now,  would  you?  Not  much, 
sir!" 

"  If  you  really  want  me  to  stay,  captain  — " 

Briggs  took  Filhiol  by  the  hand  and  looked  steadily 
into  his  anxious,  withered  face. 

"  Listen,"  said  he,  in  a  deep,  quiet  tone.  "  I'm  in 
trouble,  doctor.  Deep,  black,  bitter  trouble.  Nobody 
in  this  world  but  you  can  help  me  steer  a  straight  course 
now,  if  there's  any  way  to  steer  one,  which  God  grant! 
Stand  by  me  now,  doctor.  You  did  once  before  on  the 
old  Silver  Fleece.  I've  got  your  stitches  in  me  yet 
Now,  after  fifty  years,  I  need  you  again,  though  it's 
worse  this  time  than  any  knife-cut  ever  was.  Stand 
by  me,  doctor,  for  a  little  while.  That's  all  I  ask. 
Stand  by! " 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

SUNSHINE 

The  miracle  of  a  new  day's  sunshine  —  golden  over 
green  earth,  foam-collared  shore  and  shining  sea  — 
Brought  another  miracle  almost  as  great  as  that  which 
had  transformed  somber  night  to  radiant  morning. 
This  miracle  was  the  complete  reversal  of  the  situation 
at  Snug  Harbor,  and  the  return  of  peace  and  happi 
ness.  But  all  this  cannot  be  told  in  two  breaths.  We 
must  not  run  too  far  ahead  of  our  story. 

So,  to  go  on  in  orderly  fashion  we  must  know  that 
Ezra's  carefully  prepared  supper  turned  out  to  be  a 
melancholy  failure.  The  somber  dejection  of  the  three 
old  men  at  table,  and  then  the  miserable  evening  of  the 
captain  and  the  doctor  on  the  piazza,  talking  of  old 
days  with  infinite  regret,  of  the  present  with  grief  and 
humiliation,  of  the  future  with  black  bodings,  made  a 
sorry  time  of  it  all. 

Night  brought  but  little  sleep  to  Captain  Briggs. 
The  doctor  slept  well  enough,  and  Ezra  seconded  him. 
But  the  good  fortune  of  oblivion  was  not  for  the  old 
captain.  Through  what  seemed  a  black  eternity  he  lay 
in  the  bunk  in  his  cabin,  brooding,  agonizing,  listening 
to  the  murmur  of  the  sea,  the  slow  tolling  of  hours 
from  the  tall  clock  in  the  hallway.  The  cessation  of 
the  ticking  of  his  chronometer  left  a  strange  vacancy 
in  his  soul.  Deeply  he  mourned  it. 

After  an  infinite  time,  half-sleep  won  upon  him, 
troubled  by  ugly  dreams.  Alpheus  Briggs  seemed  to 

169 


i;o  CURSED 

behold  again  the  stifling  alleyways  of  the  Malay  town, 
the  carabaos  and  chattering  gharrimen,  the  peddlers  and 
whining  musicians,  the  smoky  torch-flares  and  dark, 
slow-moving  river.  He  seemed  to  smell,  once  more, 
the  odors  of  spice  and  curry,  the  smoke  of  torches  and 
wood  fires,  the  dank  and  reeking  mud  of  the  marshy, 
fever-bitten  shore. 

And  then  the  vision  changed.  He  was  at  sea  again ; 
witnessing  the  death  of  Scurlock,  the  boy  and  Kuala 
Pahang,  in  the  blood-tinged  waters.  Came  the  battle 
with  the  Malays,  in  the  grotesque  exaggerations  of  a 
dream;  and  then  the  torments  of  the  hell-ship,  cargo- 
ing  slaves.  The  old  captain  seemed  stifled  by  the  reek 
and  welter  of  that  freight;  he  seemed  to  hear  their 
groans  and  cries  —  and  all  at  once  he  heard  again,  as 
in  a  voice  from  infinite  distances,  the  curse  of  Shiva, 
flung  at  him  by  Dengan  Jouga,  witch-woman  of  the 
Malay  tribesmen: 

"  The  evil  spirit  will  pursue  you,  even  beyond  the  wind, 
even  beyond  the  Silken  Sea !  Vishnu  will  repay  you !  Dead 
men  shall  come  from  their  graves,  like  wolves,  to  follow  you. 
Birds  of  the  ocean  foam  will  poison  you.  Life  will  become 
to  you  a  thing  more  terrible  than  the  venom  of  the  katchu- 
bong  flower,  and  evil  seed  will  grow  within  your  heart. 

"  Evil  seed  will  grow  and  flourish  there,  dragging  you 
down  to  death,  down  to  the  longing  for  death,  and  yet  you 
cannot  die !  And  the  blind  face  in  the  sky  will  watch  you, 
sahib  —  watch  you,  and  laugh,  because  you  cannot  die ! 
That  is  the  curse  of  Vishnu  on  your  soul !  " 

In  the  captain's  dream,  the  groaning  and  crying  of 
the  wounded  and  perishing  men  aboard  the  Silver 
Fleece  seemed  to  blend  with  that  of  the  dying 
slaves.  And  gradually  all  this  echoing  agony  trans 
muted  itself  into  a  sinister  and  terrible  mirth,  a  horri 
fying,  ghastly  laughter,  far  and  strange,  ceaseless, 
monotonous,  maddening. 


SUNSHINE  171 

Somewhere  in  a  boundless  sky  of  black,  the  captain 
seemed  to  behold  a  vast  spiral,  whirling,  ever-whirling 
in  and  in;  and  at  its  center,  vague,  formless  yet  filled 
with  menace,  he  dimly  saw  an  eyeless  face,  indeed,  that 
still  for  all  its  blindness  seemed  to  be  watching  him. 
And  as  it  watched,  it  laughed,  blood-freezingly. 

Captain  Briggs  roused  to  his  senses.  He  found 
himself  sitting  up  in  bed,  by  the  open  window,  through 
which  drifted  the  solemn  roar  and  hissing  back-wash  of 
a  rising  surf.  A  pallid  moon-crescent,  tangled  in  spun 
gossamer-fabric  of  drifting  cloud,  cast  tenuous,  fairy 
shadows  across  the  garden.  Staring,  the  captain 
rubbed  his  eye. 

"  Judas  priest !  "  he  muttered.  "  What  —  where  — 
Ah!  Dreaming,  eh?  Only  dreaming?  Thank  God 
for  that!" 

Then,  with  a  pang  of  transfixing  pain,  back  surged 
memories  of  what  had  happened  last  night.  He  slid 
out  of  bed,  struck  a  match  and  looked  at  his  watch. 
The  hour  was  just  a  bit  after  two. 

Noiselessly  Briggs  crept  from  his  room,  climbed  the 
stairs  and  came  to  Hal's  door.  The  menace  of  Kuala 
Pahang  still  weighed  terribly  upon  him.  Something 
of  the  vague  superstitions  of  the  sea  seemed  to  have 
infused  themselves  into  the  captain's  blood.  Shud 
dering,  he  remembered  the  curse  that  now  for  years 
had  lain  forgotten  in  the  dusty  archives  of  his  youth ; 
remembered  even  more  than  he  had  dreamed ;  remem 
bered  the  words  of  the  nenek  kabayan,  the  witch- 
woman  —  that  strange,  yellow,  ghostlike  creature 
which  had  come  upon  him  silently  over  his  rum  and 
gabbling  in  the  cabin  of  the  hell-ship : 

"Something  you  love  —  love  more  than  your  own  life  — 
will  surely  die.  You  will  die  then,  but  still  you  will  not  die. 
You  will  pray  for  death,  but  death  will  mock  and  will  not 
come !  " 


172  CURSED 

The  old  captain  shivered  as  he  stood  before  the  door 
of  Hal's  room.  Suppose  the  ancient  curse  really  had 
power  ?  Suppose  it  should  strike  Hal,  and  Hal  should 
die !  What  then  ? 

For  a  moment  he  heard  nothing  within  the  room, 
and  his  old  heart  nearly  stopped,  altogether.  But 
almost  at  once  he  perceived  Hal's  breathing,  quiet 
and  natural. 

"  Oh,  thank  God !  "  the  captain  murmured,  his  soul 
suddenly  expanding  with  blest  relief.  He  remained 
there  a  while,  keeping  silent  vigil  at  the  door  of  his 
well-loved  boy.  Then,  satisfied  that  all  was  well,  he 
retraced  his  steps,  got  back  into  bed,  and  so  presently 
fell  into  peaceful  slumber. 

A  knocking  at  his  door,  together  with  the  voice  of 
Ezra,  awoke  him. 

"  Cap'n  Briggs,  sir !  It's  six  bells  o'  the  mornin' 
watch.  Time  to  turn  out !  " 

The  captain  blinked  and  rubbed  his  eyes. 

"  Come  in,  Ezra,"  bade  he,  mustering  his  wits. 
"  H-m !  "  he  grunted  at  sight  of  Ezra's  cheek-bone 
with  an  ugly  cut  across  it.  "  The  doctor  up  yet?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  He's  been  cruisin'  out  'round  the  lawn 
an'  garden  an  hour.  He's  real  interesting  ain't  he? 
But  he's  too  kind  o'  mournful-like  to  set  right  on  my 
stomach.  Only  happy  when  he's  miserable.  Men's 
different,  that  way,  sir.  Some  heaves  a  sigh,  where 
others  would  heave  a  brick." 

"  That'll  do,  Ezra.  What's  there  to  record  on  the 
log,  so  far  ?  "  asked  Briggs,  anxiously. 

"  First  thing  this  A.  M.  I'm  boarded  by  old  Joe 
Pringle,  the  peddler  from  Kittery.  Joe,  he  wanted  to 
sell  us  any  thin'  he  could  —  a  jew's-harp,  history  o' 
the  world,  Salvation  Salve,  a  phonograft,  an  Eyetalian 
queen-bee,  a — " 

"  Hold  hard  1     I   don't  care  anything  about  Joe. 


SUNSHINE  173 

What's  the  news  this  morning  about  —  about — " 

"  News,  sir  ?  Well,  the  white  Leghorn's  bringin' 
off  a  nestful.  Five's  hatched  already.  Nature's 
funny,  ain't  it?  We  git  chickens  from  eggs,  an'  eggs 
from  chickens,  an' — " 

"  Will  you  stop  your  fool  talk? "  demanded  the 
captain.  He  peered  at  Ezra  with  disapproval.  To 
his  lips  he  could  not  bring  a  direct  question  about  the 
boy;  and  Ezra  was  equally  unwilling  to  introduce  the 
subject,  fearing  lest  some  word  of  blame  might  be 
spoken  against  his  idol.  "  Tell  me  some  news,  I  say !  " 
the  captain  ordered. 

"  News,  cap'n  ?  Well,  Dr.  Filhiol,  there,  fed  his 
nag  enough  of  our  chicken-feed  to  last  us  a  week. 
The  doc,  he  calls  the  critter,  Ned.  But  I  think  Sea 
Lawyer  would  be  'bout  right." 

"  Sea  Lawyer  ?     How's  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  it  can  draw  a  conveyance,  but  it's  dog 
gone  poor  at  it." 

"  Stop  your  foolishness,  Ezra,  and  tell  me  what  I 
want  to  know.  How's  Hal  this  morning?  Where 
is  he,  and  what's  he  doing?" 

"  Master  Hal?     Why,  he's  all  right,  sir." 

"He  is,  eh?"  The  captain's  hands  were  clenched 
with  nervousness. 

Ezra  nodded  assent. 

"  Don't  ye  worry  none  about  Master  Hal,"  said  he 
gravely.  "  Worry's  wuss'n  a  dozen  leaks  an'  no 
pump.  Ef  ye  must  worry,  worry  somebody  else." 

"What's  the  boy  doing?     Drinking  again?" 

"  Not  a  drink,  cap'n.  Now  my  idea  about  liquor 
is—" 

"  Judas  priest !  "  interrupted  Briggs.  "  You'll  drive 
me  crazy!  If  the  world  was  coming  to  an  end  you'd 
argue  with  Gabriel.  You  say  Hal's  not  touched  it 
this  morning?  " 


174  CURSED 

"  Nary  drop,  sir." 

"Oh,  that's  good  news!" 

"  Good  news  is  like  a  hard-b'iled  egg,  cap'n.  You 
don't  have  to  break  it  easy.  Hal's  fine  an'  fit  this 
mornin',  sir.  I  thought  maybe  he  might  hunt  a  little 
tot  o'  rum,  this  mornin',  but  no;  no,  sir,  he's  sober 
as  a  deacon.  The  way  he  apologized  was  as  han'- 
some." 

"Apologized?     Who  to?" 

"  Me  an'  the  doctor.  He  come  out  to  the  barn, 
an'  begged  our  pardons  in  some  o'  the  doggondest 
purtiest  language  I  ever  clapped  an  ear  to.  He's  slick. 
Everythin's  all  right  between  Master  Hal  an'  I  an' 
the  doctor.  After  he  apologized  he  went  fer  a  swim, 
down  to  Geyser  Rock." 

"Did,  eh?  He's  wonderful  in  the  water!  Not 
another  man  in  this  town  dares  take  that  dive.  I  — 
I'm  mighty  glad  he  had  the  decency  to  apologize. 
Hal's  steering  the  right  course  now.  He's  proved 
himself  a  man  anyhow.  Last  night  I'd  almost  lost 
faith  in  him  and  in  all  humanity." 

"  It  ain't  so  important  fer  a  man  to  have  faith  in 
humanity  as  fer  humanity  to  have  faith  in  him,"  af 
firmed  the  old  cook.  "  Now,  cap'n,  you  git  up,  please. 
You'll  want  to  see  Master  Hal  afore  breakfast.  Listen 
to  me,  cap'n,  don't  never  drive  that  boy  out,  same's 
I  was  drove.  Master  Hal's  sound  an'  good  at  heart. 
But  he's  had  his  own  head  too  long  now  fer  you  to 
try  rough  tactics." 

"  Rough !     When  was  I  ever  rough  with  Hal  ?  " 

"  Mebbe  if  you  had  of  been  a  few  times  when  he 
was  small  it  'd  of  been  better.  But  it's  too  late  now. 
Let  him  keep  all  canvas  aloft;  but  hold  a  hard  helm 
on  him.  Hold  it  hard !  " 

The  sound  of  singing  somewhere  across  the  road 
toward  the  shore  drew  the  captain's  attention  out  the 


SUNSHINE  175 

window.  Striding  home  from  his  morning  plunge, 
Hal  was  returning  to  Snug  Harbor,  "  coming  up  with 
a  song  from  the  sea." 

The  captain  put  on  his  bathrobe,  then  went  to  the 
window  and  sat  down  there.  He  leaned  his  arms  on 
the  sill,  and  peered  out  at  Hal.  Ezra  discreetly  with 
drew. 

No  sign  seemed  visible  on  Hal  of  last  night's  rage 
and  war.  Sleep,  and  the  exhilaration  of  battling  with 
the  savage  surf  along  the  face  of  Geyser  Rock,  had 
swept  away  all  traces  of  his  brutality.  Molded  into 
his  wet  bathing-suit  that  revealed  every  line  of  that 
splendidly  virile  body,  he  drew  near. 

All  at  once  he  caught  sight  of  Captain  Briggs.  He 
stopped  his  song,  by  the  lantern-flanked  gateway,  and 
waved  a  hand  of  greeting. 

"  Top  o'  the  morning  to  you,  grandfather!"  cried 
he.  There  he  stood  overflooded  with  life,  strength, 
spirits.  His  body  gleamed  with  glistening  brine;  his 
face,  lighted  by  a  smile  of  boyish  frankness,  shone  in 
the  morning  sun.  His  thick,  black  hair  that  he  had 
combed  straight  back  with  his  fingers,  dripped  sea- 
water  on  his  bronzed,  muscular  shoulders. 

"  God,  what  a  man !  "  the  captain  thought.  "  Hard 
as  nails,  and  ridged  with  muscle.  He's  only  twenty- 
one,  but  he's  better  than  ever  I  was,  at  my  best!  " 

And  once  again,  he  felt  his  old  heart  expand  with 
pride  and  hope  —  hope  that  reached  out  to  lay  eager 
hold  upon  the  future  and  its  dreams. 

"  I  want  to  see  you,  sir,  before  breakfast,"  said  the 
captain. 

Hal  nodded  comprehension.  From  the  hedge  he 
broke  a  little  twig,  and  held  it  up. 

"  Here's  the  switch,  gramp,"  said  he  whimsically. 
"  You'd  better  use  it  now,  while  I've  got  bare  legs." 

The  old  man  had  to  smile.     With  eyes  of  profound 


176  CURSED 

affection  he  gazed  at  Hal.  Sunlight  on  his  head  and 
on  Hal's  struck  out  wonderful  contrasts  of  snow  and 
jet.  The  luminous,  celestial  glow  of  a  June  morning 
on  the  New  England  coast  —  a  morning  gemmed  with 
billions  of  devvdrops  flashing  on  leaf  and  lawn,  a 
morning  overbrooded  by  azure  deeps  of  sky  unclouded 
—  folded  the  world  in  beauty. 

A  sense  of  completion,  of  loveliness  fulfilled  com 
passed  everything.  Autumn  looks  back,  regretfully. 
Winter  shivers  between  memories  and  hopes.  Spring 
hopes  more  strongly  still  —  but  June,  complete  and 
resting,  says :  "  Behold !  " 

Such  was  that  morning;  and  the  captain,  looking 
at  his  boy,  felt  its  magic  soothing  the  troubled  heart 
within  him.  On  the  lawn,  two  or  three  robins  were 
busy.  Another,  teetering  high  on  the  plumy  crest  of  a 
shadowing  elm,  was  emptying  its  heart  of  melody. 

A  minute,  old  man  and  young  looked  steadily  at 
each  other.  Then  Hal  came  up  the  white-sanded 
walk,  between  the  two  rows  of  polished  conches.  He 
stopped  at  the  old  man's  window. 

"  Grandfather,"  said  he  in  a  low  tone.  "  Will  you 
listen  to  me,  please?  " 

"  What  have  you  got  to  say,  sir?  "  demanded  Briggs, 
and  stiffened  his  resolution.  "  Well,  sir?  " 

"  Listen,  grandfather,"  answered  Hal,  in  a  very 
manly  way,  that  harmonized  with  his  blue-eyed  look, 
and  with  his  whole  air  of  ingenuous  and  boyish  con 
trition.  He  crossed  his  bare  arms,  looked  down  a 
moment  at  the  sand,  dug  at  it  a  little  with  a  toe,  and 
then  once  more  raised  his  head.  "  Listen,  please. 
I've  got  just  one  thing  to  ask.  Please  don't  lecture 
me,  and  don't  be  harsh.  I  stand  here  absolutely  peni 
tent,  grandfather,  begging  to  be  forgiven.  I've  al 
ready  apologized  to  Dr.  Filhiol  and  Ezra — " 

"  So  I   understand,"  put  in  Briggs,   still   striving 


SUNSHINE  177 

hard  to  make  his  voice  sound  uncompromising. 
"Well?" 

"Well,  grandfather — as  for  apologizing  to  you, 
that's  kind  of  a  hard  proposition.  It  isn't  that  I  don't 
want  to,  but  the  relations  between  us  have  been  so 
close  that  it's  pretty  hard  to  make  up  a  regular  apology. 
You  and  I  aren't  on  a  basis  where  I  really  could 
apologize,  as  I  could  to  anybody  else.  But  I  certainly 
did  act  the  part  of  a  ruffian  on  the  Sylvia  Fletcher, 
and  I  was  certainly  a  rotter  here  last  night.  There's 
only  one  other  thing — " 

"And  what's  that,  sir?"  demanded  Briggs.  The 
captain  still  maintained  judicial  aloofness,  despite  all 
cravings  of  the  heart.  "What's  that?" 

"I  —  you  may  not  believe  it,  gramp,  but  it's  true. 
I  really  don't  remember  hardly  anything  about  what 
happened  aboard  the  schooner  or  here.  I  suppose  I 
can't  stand  even  a  couple  of  drinks.  It  all  seems  hazy 
to  me  now,  like  a  kind  of  nightmare.  It's  all  indis 
tinct,  as  if  it  weren't  me  at  all,  but  somebody  else. 
I  feel  just  as  if  I'd  been  watching  another  man  do 
the  things  that  I  really  know  I  myself  did  do.  The 
feeling  is  that  somebody  else  took  my  body  and  used 
it,  and  made  it  do  things  that  I  myself  didn't  want 
it  to  do.  But  I  was  powerless  to  stop  it.  Grampy, 
it's  true,  true,  true!" 

He  paused,  looking  at  his  grandfather  with  eyes 
of  tragic  seriousness.  Old  Briggs  shivered  slightly, 
and  drew  the  bathrobe  more  tightly  around  his  shoul 
ders. 

"  Go  on,  Hal." 

"  Well,  there  isn't  much  more  to  say.  I  know 
there'll  be  consequences,  and  I'm  willing  to  face  them. 
I'll  cut  out  the  booze  altogether.  It  was  foolish  of 
me  to  get  into  it  at  all,  but  you  know  how  it  is  at 
college.  They  all  kidded  me,  for  not  drinking  a  little, 


1 78  CURSED 

and  so  —  well.  It's  my  own  fault,  right  enough. 
Anyhow,  I'm  done.  You'll  forget  it  and  forgive  it, 
won't  you,  grandpa?" 

"  Will  I,  my  boy  ?  "  the  old  man  answered.  He 
blinked  to  keep  back  the  tears.  "  You  know  the  an 
swer,  already!  " 

"You  really  mean  that,  gramp?"  exclaimed  Hal, 
with  boyish  enthusiasm.  "  If  I  face  the  music,  what 
ever  it  is,  and  keep  away  from  any  encores,  will  you 
let  me  by,  this  time  ?  " 

The  captain  could  answer  only  by  stretching  out  his 
hand  and  gripping  Hal's.  The  boy  took  his  old, 
wrinkled  hand  in  a  grip  heartfelt  and  powerful.  Thus 
for  a  moment  the  two  men,  old  and  young,  felt  the 
strong  pressure  of  palms  that  cemented  contrition  and 
forgiveness.  The  captain  was  first  to  speak. 

"  Everything's  all  right  now,  Hal,"  said  he,  "  so 
far's  I'm  concerned.  Whatever's  wrong,  outside  Snug 
Haven,  can  be  made  right.  I  know  you've  had  your 
lesson,  boy." 

"  I  should  say  so!     I  don't  need  a  second." 

"  No,  no.  You'll  remember  this  one,  right  enough. 
Well,  now,  least  said  soonest  mended.  It  was  pretty 
shoal  water  there,  one  while.  But  we're  floating  again, 
and  we're  not  going  to  run  on  to  any  more  sandbars, 
are  we?  Ah,  there's  Ezra  blowing  his  bo'sun's  whistle 
for  breakfast.  Let's  see  which  of  us  gets  to  mess-table 
first!" 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

DARKENING   SHADOWS 

Breakfast  —  served  on  a  regulation  ship's  table,  with 
swivel-chairs  screwed  to  the  floor  and  with  a  rack 
above  for  tumblers  and  plates  —  made  up  by  its  over 
flowing  happiness  for  all  the  heartache  of  the  night 
before.  Hal  radiated  life  and  high  spirits.  The  cap 
tain's  forebodings  of  evil  had  vanished  in  his  newly- 
revivified  hopes.  Dr.  Filhiol  became  downright  cheer 
ful,  and  so  far  forgot  his  nerves  as  to  drink  a  cup 
of  weak  coffee.  As  for  Ezra,  he  seemed  in  his  best 
form. 

"  Judgin'  by  your  togs,  Master  Hal,"  said  he,  as 
Hal  —  breakfast  done  —  lighted  his  pipe  and  blew 
smoke  up  into  the  sunlit  air,  "  I  cal'late  Laura  May- 
nard's  got  jest  the  same  chances  of  not  takin'  a  walk 
with  you,  this  mornin',  that  Ruddy,  here,  has  got  of 
learnin'  them  heathen  Chinee  books  o'  yourn.  It  says 
in  the  Bible  to  love  y'r  neighbor  as  y'rself,  so  you  got 
Scripture  backin'  fer  Laura." 

"  Plus  the  evidence  of  my  own  senses,  Ezra," 
laughed  the  boy,  as  he  drew  at  his  pipe.  His  fresh- 
shaven,  tanned  face  with  those  now  placid  blue  eyes 
seemed  to  have  no  possible  relation  with  the  mask 
of  vicious  hate  and  rage  of  the  night  before. 

As  he  sat  there,  observing  Ezra  with  a  smile,  he 
appeared  no  other  than  an  extraordinary  well-grown, 
powerfully  developed  young  man. 

"  Must  have  been  the  rum  that  did  it,"  the  captain 

179 


i8o  CURSED 

tried  to  convince  himself.  "  Works  that  way  with 
some  people.  They  lose  all  anchors,  canvas,  sticks 
and  everything  —  go  on  the  rocks  when  they've  only 
shipped  a  drink  or  two.  There'll  be  no  more  rum  for 
Hal.  He's  passed  his  word  he's  through.  That 
means  he  is  through,  because  whatever  else  he  may 
or  may  not  be,  he's  a  Briggs.  So  then,  that's  settled !  " 

"  Now  that  you've  put  me  in  mind  of  Laura,  I 
think  I  will  take  a  walk  down-street,"  said  Hal.  "  I 
might  just  possibly  happen  to  meet  her.  Glad  you 
reminded  me,  Ezra." 

"  I  guess  you  don't  need  much  remindin',"  replied 
the  old  cook  solemnly.  "  But  sail  a  steady  course  an' 
don't  carry  too  much  canvas.  You're  too  young  a 
cap'n  to  be  lookin'  for  a  mate,  on  the  sea  o'  life. 
Go  slow.  You  can't  never  tell  what  a  woman  or  a 
jury  '11  do,  an'  most  women  jump  at  a  chanst  quicker 
Jn  what  they  do  at  a  mouse.  Go  easy !  " 

"  For  an  old  pair  of  scissors  with  only  one  blade, 
you  seem  to  understand  the  cut  of  the  feminine  gender 
pretty  well,"  smiled  the  boy. 

"  Understand  females  ?  "  replied  Ezra,  drawing  out 
a  corn-cob  and  a  pouch  of  shag.  "  Not  me !  Some 
men  think  they  do,  but  then,  some  men  is  dum  fools. 
They're  dangerous,  women  is.  No  charted  coast,  no 
lights  but  love-light,  an'  that  most  always  turns  out 
to  be  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  that  piles  ye  up  on  the  rocks. 
When  a  man  gits  stuck  on  a  gal,  seems  like  he's  like 
a  fly  stuck  on  fly-paper  —  sure  to  git  his  leg  pulled." 

Hal  laughed  again,  and  departed  with  that  kind  of 
casual  celerity  which  any  wise  old  head  can  easily 
interpret.  Ezra,  striking  into  a  ditty  with  a  monoto 
nous  chorus  of  "  Blow  the  man  down,"  began  gather 
ing  up  the  breakfast-dishes.  The  captain  and  his  guest 
made  their  way  to  the  quarter-deck  and  settled  them 
selves  in  rockers. 


DARKENING  SHADOWS  181 

Briggs  had  hardly  more  than  lighted  his  pipe,  when 
his  attention  was  caught  by  a  white-canvas-covered 
wagon,  bearing  on  its  side  the  letters :  "  R.  F.  D." 

"  Hello,"  said  he,  a  shade  of  anxiety  crossing  his 
face.  "  Hello,  there's  the  mail." 

He  tried  to  speak  with  unconcern,  but  into  his  voice 
crept  foreboding  that  matched  his  look.  As  he  strode 
down  the  walk,  Filhiol  squinted  after  him. 

"  It's  a  sin  and  shame,  the  way  he's  worried  now," 
the  doctor  murmured.  "  That  boy's  got  the  devil  in 
him.  He'll  kill  the  captain,  yet.  A  swim,  a  shave 
and  a  suit  of  white  flannels  don't  change  a  man's  heart. 
What's  bred  in  the  bone  — " 

Captain  Briggs  came  to  a  stand  at  the  gate.  His 
nervousness  betrayed  itself  by  the  thick  cloud  of  to 
bacco-smoke  that  rose  from  his  lips.  Leisurely  the 
mail-wagon  zigzagged  from  side  to  side  of  the  street 
as  the  postman  slid  papers  and  letters  into  the  boxes 
and  hoisted  the  red  flags,  always  taking  good  care 
that  no  card  escaped  him,  unread. 

"  Mornin',  cap'n,"  said  the  postman.  "  Here's  your 
weather  report,  an'  here's  your  '  Shippin'  News.'  An' 
here's  a  letter  from  Boston,  from  the  college.  You 
don't  s'pose  Hal's  in  any  kind  o'  rookus  down  there, 
huh?  An'  here's  a  letter  from  Squire  Bean,  down 
to  the  Center.  Don't  cal'late  there's  any  law-doin's, 
do  you?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded  the  captain,  try 
ing  to  keep  a  brave  front.  "  What  could  there  be  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  know,  'bout  how  Hal  rimracked  Mc- 
Laughlin.  I  heered  tell,  down:along,  he's  goin'  to 
sue  for  swingein'  damages.  Hal  durn  nigh  killed  the 
critter." 

"Who  told  you?"  demanded  the  captain. 

"Oh,  they're  all  talkin'.  An'  I  see  Mac,  myself, 
goin  inta  the  squire's  house  on  a  crutch  an'  with  one 


182  CURSED 

arm  in  a  sling,  early  this  mornin'.  This  here  letter 
must  of  been  wrote  right  away  after  that.  Course 
I  hope  it  ain't  nuthin',  but  looks  to  me  like  'tis. 
Well  — " 

He  eyed  the  captain  expectantly,  hoping  the  old 
man  might  open  the  letter  and  give  the  news  which  he 
could  bear  to  all  and  sundry.  But,  no;  the  captain 
merely  nodded,  thrust  the  letters  into  the  capacious 
breast-pocket  of  his  square-rigged  coat  and  with  a 
non-committal  "  Thank  you,"  made  his  way  back  to 
the  piazza.. 

His  shoulders  drooped  not,  neither  did  his  step 
betray  any  weakness.  The  disgruntled  postman  mut 
tered  something  surly,  clucked  to  his  horse,  and  in 
disappointment  pursued  his  business  —  the  leisurely 
handling  of  Uncle  Sam's  mail  and  everybody's  private 
affairs. 

The  same  robin  —  or  perhaps,  after  all,  it  was  a 
different  one  —  was  singing  in  the  elm,  as  Alpheus 
Briggs  returned  to  the  house.  Down  the  shaded 
street  the  metallic  rhythm  of  the  anvil  was  breaking 
through  the  contrabass  of  the  surf.  But  now  this 
melody  fell  on  deaf  ears,  for  Captain  Briggs.  Heavily 
he  came  up  the  steps,  and  with  weariness  sank  down 
in  the  big  rocker.  Sadly  he  shook  his  head. 

"  It's  come,  I'm  afraid,"  said  he  dejectedly.  "  I 
was  hoping  it  wouldn't.  Hoping  McLaughlin  would 
fet  it  go.  But  that  was  hoping  too  much.  He's 
no  man  to  swallow  a  beating.  See  here  now,  will 
you?" 

The  captain  pulled  out  his  letter  from  Squire  Bean, 
and  extended  it  to  Filhiol. 

"  Local  attorney  ?  "  asked  the  doctor,  with  a  look 
of  anxiety. 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  captain.     "  This  letter  means 


DARKENING  SHADOWS  183 

only   one   thing.     Barometer's    falling   again.     We'll 
have  to  take  in  more  canvas,  sir." 

He  tore  the  envelope  with  fingers  now  trembling. 
The  letter  revealed  a  crabbed  hand-writing,  thus : 

Endicutt,  Massachusetts, 

June  19,  1918. 
CAPTAIN  ALPHEUS  BRIGGS, 

South  Endicutt. 

DEAR  SIR  :  Captain  Fergus  McLaughlin  has  placed  in  my 
hands  the  matter  of  the  assault  and  battery  committed  upon 
him  by  your  grandson,  Hal  Briggs.  Captain  McLaughlin  is 
in  bad  shape,  is  minus  a  front  tooth,  has  his  right  arm  broke, 
and  cannot  walk  without  a  crutch.  You  are  legally  liable 
for  these  injuries,  and  would  be  immediately  summoned  into 
court  except  Capt.  McLaughlin  has  regard  for  your  age  and 
position  in  the  community.  There  is,  however,  no  doubt, 
legal  damages  coming  to  the  Capt.  If  you  call,  we  can  dis 
cuss  amt.  of  same,  otherwise  let  the  law  take  its  course. 

Resp'ly, 

JOHAB  BEAN,  J.  P., 
Ex-Candidate  for  Judge  of  Dis't  Court. 

Captain  Briggs  read  this  carefully,  then,  tugging 
at  his  beard,  passed  it  over  to  Dr.  Filhiol. 

"  It's  all  as  I  was  afraid  it  would  be,"  said  the 
captain.  "  McLaughlin's  not  going  to  take  the  medi 
cine  he's  really  deserved  for  long  years  of  buckoing 
poor  devils.  No,  doctor.  First  time  he  meets  a  man 
that  can  stand  up  to  him  and  pay  him  back  with  in 
terest,  he  steers  a  course  for  the  law.  That's  your 
bully  and  your  coward !  Thank  God,  for  all  my  do 
ings,  I  never  fought  my  fights  before  a  judge  or  jury! 
It  was  the  best  man  win,  fist  to  fist,  or  knife  to  knife 
if  it  came  to  that  —  but  the  law,  sir,  never!  " 

"  Well,  that  doesn't  matter  now,"  said  Filhiol. 
"  I'm  afraid  you're  in  for  whacking  damages.  Hal's 
lucky  that  he  wasn't  a  signed-on  member  of  the  crew. 


1 84  CURSED 

There'd  have  been  mutiny  for  you  to  get  him  out  of, 
and  iron  bars.  Lucky  again,  he  didn't  hit  just  a  trifle 
harder.  If  he  had,  it  might  have  been  murder,  and 
in  this  State  they  send  men  to  the  chair  for  that. 
Yes,  captain,  you're  lucky  it's  no  worse.  If  you  have 
only  a  hundred  or  two  dollars  to  pay  for  doctor's  bills 
and  damages,  you'll  be  most  fortunate." 

"  A  hundred  or  two  dollars !  "  ejaculated  the  cap 
tain.  "  Judas  priest !  You  don't  think  there'll  be 
any  such  bill  as  that  for  repairs  and  demurrage  on 
McLaughlin's  hulk,  do  you?" 

"  I  think  that  would  be  a  very  moderate  sum,"  an 
swered  Filhiol.  "  I'm  willing  to  stand  back  of  you, 
captain,  all  the  way.  I'll  go  into  court  and  examine 
McLaughlin,  myself,  as  an  expert  witness.  It's  more 
than  possible  Squire  Bean  is  exaggerating,  to  shake 
you  down." 

"  You'll  stand  back  of  me,  doctor?  "  exclaimed  the 
captain,  his  face  lighting  up.  "  You'll  go  into  court, 
and  steer  me  straight?  " 

"  By  all  means,  sir!  " 

Briggs  nearly  crushed  the  doctor's  hand  in  a  power 
ful  grip. 

"  Well  spoken,  sir !  "  said  he.  "  It's  like  you,  doc 
tor.  Well,  all  I  can  do  is  to  thank  you,  and  accept 
your  offer.  That  puts  a  better  slant  to  our  sails,  right 
away.  Good,  sir  —  very,  very  good !  " 

His  expression  was  quite  different  as  he  tore  open 
the  letter  from  the  college.  Perhaps,  after  all,  this 
was  only  some  routine  communication.  But  as  he 
read  the  neat,  typewritten  lines,  a  look  of  astonish 
ment  developed;  and  this  in  turn  gave  way  to  a  most 
pitiful  dismay. 

The  captain's  hands  were  shaking,  now,  so  that  he 
could  hardly  hold  the  letter.  His  face  had  gone  quite 
bloodless.  All  the  voice  he  could  muster  was  a  kind 


DARKENING  SHADOWS  185 

of  whispering  gasp,  as  he  stretched  out  the  sheet  of 
paper  to  the  wondering  Filhiol: 

"Read  —  read  that,  doctor!  The  curse  —  the 
curse!  Oh,  God  is  being  very  hard  on  me,  in  my 
old  age!  Read  that!" 


CHAPTER  XXV 

TROUBLED   SOULS 

Dr.  Filhiol  trembled  as  he  took  the  letter  and  read : 

Cambridge,  Massachusetts, 

June  18,  1918. 
DEAR  SIR: 

I  regret  that  I  must  write  you  again  in  regard  to  your 
grandson,,  Haldane  Briggs,  but  necessity  leaves  no  choice. 
This  communication  does  not  deal  with  an  unimportant 
breach  of  discipline,  such  as  we  overlooked  last  year,  but 
involves  matters  impossible  to  condone. 

During  the  final  week  of  the  college  year  Mr.  Briggs's 
conduct  cannot  be  too  harshly  stigmatized.  Complaint  has 
been  entered  against  him  for  gambling  and  for  having  ap 
peared  on  the  college  grounds  intoxicated.  On  the  evening 
of  Thursday  last  Mr.  Briggs  attempted  to  bring  liquor  into 
a  college  dormitory,  and  when  the  proctor  made  a  protest, 
Mr.  Briggs  assaulted  him. 

In  addition,  we  find  your  grandson  has  not  applied  the 
money  sent  by  you  to  the  settlement  of  his  term  bill,  but  has 
diverted  it  for  his  own  uses.  The  bill  is  herewith  enclosed, 
and  I  trust  that  you  will  give  it  your  immediate  attention. 

Mr.  Briggs,  because  of  his  undesirable  habits,  has  not  re 
cently  been  properly  attending  to  his  courses,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  his  Oriental  language  work,  in  which  he  has 
continued  to  take  a  real  interest.  His  examination  marks  in 
other  studies  have  been  so  high  as  to  lead  to  an  inquiry,  and 
we  find  that  Mr.  Briggs  has  been  hiring  some  person  un 
known  to  take  his  place  in  three  examinations  and  to  pass 
them  for  him  —  a  form  of  cheating  which  the  large  size  of 
some  of  our  courses  unfortunately  renders  possible. 

Any  one  of  Mr.  Briggs's  infractions  of  the  rules  would  re 
sult  in  his  dismissal.  Taken  as  a  total,  they  render  that  dis 
missal  peremptory  and  final.  I  regret  to  inform  you  that 

186 


TROUBLED  SOULS  187 

your  grandson's  connection  with  the  university  is  definitely 
terminated. 

Regretting  that  my  duty  compels  me  to  communicate  news 
of  such  an  unpleasant  nature,  I  am, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 
HAWLEY  D.  TRAVERS,  A.B.,  A.M.,  LL.B. 
To  CAPTAIN  ALPHEUS  BRIGGS, 

South  Endicutt,  Massachusetts. 

Down  sank  the  head  of  Captain  Briggs.  The  old 
man's  beard  flowed  over  the  smart  bravery  of  his 
blue  coat,  and  down  his  weather-hardened  cheeks 
trickled  slow  tears  of  old  age,  scanty  but  freighted 
with  a  bitterness  the  tears  of  youth  can  never  feel. 

For  a  moment  the  captain  .sat  annihilated  under 
life's  most  grievous  blow  —  futility  and  failure  after 
years  of  patient  labor,  years  of  saving  and  of  self- 
denial,  of  hopes,  of  dreams.  One  touch  of  the  harsh 
finger  of  Fate  and  all  the  gleaming  iridescence  of 
the  bubble  had  vanished.  From  somewhere  dark  and 
far  a  voice  seemed  echoing  in  his  ears : 

"  Even  though  you  flee  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  my  curse 
will  reach  you.  You  shall  pray  to  die,  but  still  you  cannot 
die !  What  is  written  in  the  Book  must  be  fulfilled !  " 

Suddenly  the  captain  got  up  and  made  his  way  into 
the  house.  Like  a  wounded  animal  seeking  its  lair 
he  retreated  into  his  cabin. 

The  doctor  peered  after  him,  letter  in  hand.  From 
the  galley  Ezra's  voice  drifted  in  nasal  song,  with 
words  strangely  trivial  for  so  tragic  a  situation : 

"Blow,  boys,  blow,  for  Californ-io! 
There's  plenty  of  gold,  so  I've  been  told, 
On  the  banks  of  Sacramento !  " 

"H-m!"  grunted  the  doctor.  "Poor  old  captain! 
God,  but  this  will  finish  him!  That  Hal  —  damn 


i88  CURSED 

that  Hal!  If  something  would  only  happen  to  him 
now,  so  I  could  have  him  for  a  patient!  I'm  a  law- 
abiding  man,  but  still  — " 

In  the  cabin  Briggs  sank  down  in  the  big  rocking- 
chair  before  the  fireplace.  He  was  trembling.  Some 
thing  cold  seemed  clutching  at  his  heart  like  tentacles. 
He  looked  about,  as  if  he  half -thought  something  were 
watching  him  from  the  far  corner.  Then  his  eye  fell 
on  the  Malay  kris  suspended  against  the  chimney. 
He  peered  at  the  lotus-bud  handle,  the  wavy  blade  of 
steel,  the  dark  groove  where  still  lay  the  poison,  the 
curare. 

"Merciful  God!"  whispered  Captain  Briggs,  and 
covered  his  eyes  with  a  shaking  hand.  He  suddenly 
stretched  out  hands  that  shook.  "  Oh,  haven't  I  suf 
fered  enough  and  repented  enough?  Haven't  I  la 
bored  enough  and  paid  enough  ?  "  He  pressed  a  hand 
to  his  forehead,  moist  and  cold.  "  He's  all  I've  got, 
Lord  —  the  boy  is  all  I've  got!  Take  me,  me  —  but 
don't  let  vengeance  come  through  him!  The  sin  was 
mine!  Let  me  pay!  Don't  drag  him  down  to  hell! 
Take  me  —  but  let  him  live  and  be  a  man !  " 

No  answer  save  that  Briggs  seemed  to  hear  the 
words  of  the  old  witch-woman  ringing  with  all  the 
force  of  long-repressed  memories : 

"  Your  blood,  your  blood  I  will  have !  Even  though  you 
flee  from  me  forever,  your  blood  will  I  have !  " 

"  Yes,  yes !  My  blood,  not  his ! "  cried  the  old 
captain,  standing  up.  Haggard,  he  peered  at  the  kris, 
horrible  reminder  of  a  past  he  would  have  given  life 
itself  to  obliterate  so  that  it  might  not  go  on  forever 
poisoning  his  race.  There  the  kris  hung  like  a  sword 
of  Damocles  forever  ready  to  fall  upon  his  heart  and 
pierce  it.  And  all  at  once  a  burning  rage  and  hate 
against  the  kris  flared  up  in  him.  That  thing  accursed 


TROUBLED  SOULS  189 

should  be  destroyed.  No  longer  should  it  hang  there 
on  his  fireplace  to  goad  him  into  madness. 

Up  toward  the  kris  he  extended  his  hand.  For  a 
moment  he  dared  not  lay  hold  on  it;  but  all  at  once 
he  forced  himself  to  lift  it  from  its  hooks.  At  touch 
of  it  again,  after  so  long  a  time,  he  began  to  tremble. 
But  he  constrained  himself  to  study  it,  striving  to 
fathom  what  power  lay  in  it.  Peering  with  curiosity 
and  revulsion  he  noted  the  lotus-bud,  symbol  of  sleep; 
the  keen  edge  spotted  with  dark  stains  of  blood  and 
rust ;  the  groove  with  its  dried  poison,  one  scratch 
thereof  a  solvent  for  all  earthly  problems  whatsoever. 

And  suddenly  a  new  thought  came  to  him.  His 
hand  tightened  on  the  grip.  His  head  came  up,  his 
eye  cleared,  and  with  a  look  half  of  amazement,  half 
triumph,  he  cried : 

"I've  got  the  answer  here!  The  answer,  so  help 
me  God!  Before  that  boy  of  mine  goes  down  into 
the  gutter  —  before  he  defiles  his  family  and  all  the 
memories  of  his  race,  here's  the  answer.  Lord  knows 
I  hope  he  will  come  about  on  a  new  tack  yet  and  be 
something  he  ought  to  be;  but  if  he  don't,  he'll  never 
live  to  drag  our  family  name  down  through  the 
sewer !  " 

Savage  pride  thrilled  the  old  man.  All  his  hope 
yearned  toward  the  saving  of  the  boy;  but,  should 
that  be  impossible,  he  knew  Hal  would  not  sink  to  the 
dregs  of  life. 

The  kris  now  seemed  beneficent  to  Captain  Briggs. 
Closely  he  studied  the  blade,  and  even  drew  his  thumb 
along  the  edge,  testing  its  keenness.  Just  how,  he 
wondered,  did  the  poison  work?  Was  it  painless? 
Quick  it  was;  that  much  he  knew.  Quick  and  sure. 
Not  in  anger,  but  with  a  calm  resolve  he  stood  there, 
thinking.  And  like  the  after-swells  of  a  tempest,  other 
echoes  now  bore  in  upon  him  —  echoes  of  words 


190  CURSED 

spoken  half  a  hundred  years  ago  by  Mahmud  Baba: 

"  Even  though  I  wash  coal  with  rosewater  a  whole  year 
long,  shall  I  ever  make  it  white  ?  Even  though  the  rain  fall 
a  whole  year,  will  it  make  the  sea  less  salt?  One  drop  of 
indigo  —  and  lo !  the  jar  of  milk  is  ruined!  Seed  sown  upon 
a  lake  will  never  grow  !  " 

Again  the  captain  weighed  the  kris  in  hand. 

"  Maybe  the  singer  was  right,  after  all,"  thought 
he.  "  I've  done  my  best.  I've  given  all  I  had  to 
give.  He'll  have  his  chance,  the  boy  shall,  but  if, 
after  that  — =" 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

PLANS   FOR   RESCUE 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  captain,  what  are  you  up  to 
there?" 

The  voice  of  Filhiol  startled  Briggs.  In  the  door 
of  the  cabin  he  saw  the  old  man  standing  with  a 
look  of  puzzled  anxiety.  Through  the  window  Fil 
hiol  had  seen  him  take  down  the  kris;  and,  worried, 
he  had  painfully  arisen  and  had  hobbled  into  the 
house.  "  Better  put  that  knife  up,  captain.  It's  not 
a  healthy  article  to  be  fooling  with." 

"Not,  eh?"  asked  the  captain.  "Pretty  bad 
poison,  is  it?  " 

"  Extremely  fatal." 

"Even  dried,  this  way?" 

"  Certainly !  Put  it  up,  captain,  I  beg  you !  "  The 
doctor,  more  and  more  alarmed,  came  into  the  cabin. 
"  Put  it  up !  " 

"What  does  it  do  to  you,  this  curare  stuff?"  in 
sisted  the  captain. 

"  Various  things.     And  then  — " 

"  Then  you  die?     You  surely  die?  " 

"  You  do,  unless  one  very  special  antidote  is  ap 
plied." 

"  Nobody  in  this  country  has  that,  though !  " 

"  Nobody  but  myself,  so  far  as  I  know." 

"You've  got  it?"  demanded  the  captain,  amazed. 
"  Where  the  devil  would  you  get  it?  " 

"  Out  East,  where  you  got  that  devilish  kris !  You 
haven't  forgotten  that  Parsee  in  Bombay,  who  gave 
me  the  secret  cure,  after  I'd  saved  him  from  cholera? 

191 


192  CURSED 

But  that's  neither  here  nor  there,  captain!  That  kris 
is  no  thing  to  be  experimenting  with.  Put  it  up  now, 
I  tell  you!  We  aren't  going  to  have  any  foolishness, 
captain.  Not  at  our  age,  mind  you !  Put  it  up,  now." 

Unwillingly  the  captain  obeyed.  He  hung  the 
weapon  up  once  more,  while  Filhiol  eyed  him  with 
suspicious  displeasure. 

"  It  would  be  more  to  the  point  to  see  how  we're 
going  to  get  the  boy  out  of  his  trouble  again,"  the 
doctor  reproved.  "If  you  can't  meet  this  problem 
without  doing  something  very  foolish,  captain,  you're 
not  the  man  I  think  you !  " 

Briggs  made  no  answer,  but  hailed : 

"Ezra!     Oh,  Ezra!" 

The  old  man's  chantey  —  it  now  had  to  do  with 
one  "  Old  Stormy,"  alleged  to  be  "  dead  and  gone  " — > 
promptly  ceased.  Footfalls  sounded,  and  Ezra  ap 
peared.  The  cut  on  his  cheek  showed  livid  in  the 
tough,  leathery  skin. 

<vS  Cap'n  Briggs,  sir?"  asked  he. 

"  The  doctor  and  I  are  going  to  take  a  little  morning 
cruise  down  to  Endicutt  in  the  tender  —  the  buggy, 
I  mean." 

"  An'  you  want  me  to  h'ist  sail  on  Bucephalus,  sir  ? 
All  right!  That  ain't  much  to  want,  cap'n.  Man 
wants  but  little  here  below,  an  that's  jin'ly  all  he  gits,  as 
the  feller  says.  Right !  The  Sea  Lawyer  '11  be  an 
chored  out  front,  fer  you,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to 
box  the  compass !  " 

Ezra  saluted  and  disappeared. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I'd  do  without  Ezra,"  said  the 
captain.  "  There's  a  love  and  loyalty  in  that  old  heart 
of  his  that  a  million  dollars  wouldn't  buy.  Ezra's 
been  through  some  mighty  heavy  blows  with  me.  If 
either  of  us  was  in  danger,  he'd  give  his  life  freely,  iO 
save  us.  No  doubt  of  that! " 


PLANS  FOR  RESCUE  193 

"  None  whatever,"  assented  the  doctor,  as  they  once 
more  made  their  way  out  to  the  porch.  He  blinked 
at  the  shimmering  vagrancy  of  light  that  sparkled 
from  the  harbor  through  the  fringe  of  birches  and  tall 
pines  along  the  shore.  "  Going  down  to  see  Squire 
Bean?  Is  that  it?" 

"  Yes.  The  quicker  we  settle  that  claim  the  better. 
You'll  go  with  me,  eh?" 

"  If  I'm  needed  —  yes." 

"  Well,  you  are  needed ! " 

"  All  right.  But,  after  that,  I  ought  to  be  getting 
back  to  Salem." 

"  You'll  get  back  to  nowhere ! "  ejaculated  Briggs. 
"  They  can  spare  you  at  the  home  a  few  days.  You're 
needed  here  on  the  bridge  while  this  typhoon  is  blow 
ing.  Here  you  are  and  here  you  stay  till  the  barometer 
begins  to  rise! " 

"  All  right,  captain,  as  you  wish,"  he  conceded,  his 
will  overborne  by  the  captain's  stronger  one.  "  But 
what's  the  program  ?  " 

"  The  program  is  to  pay  off  everything  and 
straighten  that  boy  out  and  make  him  walk  the  chalk- 
line.  Between  the  four  of  us  —  you  and  I  and  Laura 
and  Ezra  —  if  we  can't  do  it,  we're  not  much  good, 
are  we?  " 

"  Laura?  Who  is  this  Laura,  anyhow?  What 
kind  of  a  girl  is  she?" 

"  The  very  best,"  answered  Briggs  proudly.  "  Hal 
wouldn't  go  with  any  other  kind.  She's  the  daugh 
ter  of  Nathaniel  Maynard,  owner  of  a  dozen  schooners. 
A  prettier  girl  you  never  laid  eyes  to,  sir!  " 

"  Educated  woman  ?  " 

"  Two  years  through  college.  Then  her  mother  had 
a  stroke,  and  Laura's  home  again.  She's  taken  the 
village  school,  just  to  fill  up  her  time.  A  good  girl,  if 
there  ever  was  one.  Good  as  gold,  every  way.  I 


194  CURSED 

needn't  say  more.  I  love  her  like  a  daughter.  I 
suppose  if  I  could  have  my  dearest  wish — " 

"You'd  have  Hal  marry  her?" 

"  Just  that;  and  I'd  see  the  life  of  my  family  carried 
on  stronger,  better  and  more  vigorous.  I'd  see  a  child 
or  two  picking  the  flowers  here,  and  feel  little  hands 
tugging  at  my  old  gray  beard  and  —  but,  Judas  priest ! 
I'm  getting  sentimental  now.  No  more  of  that,  sir!  " 

"  I  think  I  understand,"  the  doctor  said  in  another 
tone.  "  We've  got  more  than  just  Hal  to  save. 
We've  got  a  woman's  happiness  to  think  of.  She 
cares  for  him,  you  think?  " 

Briggs  nodded  silently. 

"  It's  quite  to  be  expected,"  commented  the  doctor. 
"  He  certainly  can  be  charming  when  he  tries.  There's 
only  one  fly  in  the  honey-pot.  Just  one  —  his  un 
bridled  temper  and  his  seemingly  utter  irresponsibility. 

"  You  know  yourself,  captain,  his  actions  this  morn 
ing  have  been  quite  amazing.  He  starts  out  to  see 
this  girl  of  his,  right  away,  without  giving  his  bad 
conduct  a  second  thought.  The  average  boy,  ex 
pelled  from  college,  would  have  come  home  in  sack 
cloth  and  ashes  and  would  have  told  you  all  about  it. 
Hal  never  even  mentioned  it.  That's  almost  incredi 
ble." 

"  Hal's  not  an  average  kind  of  boy,  any  more  than  / 
was !  "  put  in  the  captain  proudly. 

"  No,  he  doesn't  seem  to  be,"  retorted  the  physi 
cian,  peppery  with  infirmity  and  shaken  nerves. 
"  However,  I'm  your  guest  and  I  won't  indulge  in 
any  personalities.  Whatever  comes  I'm  with  you!" 

The  captain  took  his  withered  hand  in  a  grip  that 
hurt,  and  for  a  moment  there  was  silence.  This 
silence  was  broken  by  the  voice  of  Ezra,  driving  down 
the  lane: 

"All  ready,  cap'n!     All  canvas  up,  aloft  an'  alow, 


PLANS  FOR  RESCUE  195 

an'  this  here  craft  ready  to  make  two  knots  an  hour 
ef  she  don't  founder  afore  you  leave  port!  Fact  is,  I 
think  Sea  Lawyer's  foundered  already !  " 

Together  captain  and  doctor  descended  the  path  to 
the  front  gate.  In  a  few  minutes  Ezra,  bony  hands  on 
hips,  watched  the  two  men  slowly  drive  from  sight 
round  the  turn  by  the  smithy.  Grimly  the  old  fellow 
shook  his  head  and  gripped  his  pipe  in  some  remnants 
of  teeth. 

"  I  don't  like  Pills,"  grumbled  he.  "  He's  a  tight 
wad;  never  even  slipped  me  a  cigar.  He's  one  o' 
them  fellers  that  stop  the  clock,  nights,  to  save  the 
works.  S'pose  I'd  oughta  respect  old  age,  but  old  age 
ain't  always  to  be  looked  up  to,  as,  f er  instance,  in  the 
case  of  eggs.  He's  been  ratin'  Master  Hal  down,  I 
reckon.  An'  that  wun't  do!" 

Resentfully  Ezra  came  back  to  the  house  and  entered 
the  hall.  Into  the  front  room  Ezra  walked,  ap 
proached  the  fireplace  and  for  a  moment  stood  there, 
carefully  observing  the  weapons.  Then  he  reached  up 
and  straightened  the  position  of  the  "  Penang  lawyer  " 
club,  on  its  supporting  hooks. 

"  I  got  to  git  that  jest  right,"  said  he.  "  Jest  ex 
actly  right.  Ef  the  cap'n  should  see  'twas  a  mite 
out  o'  place  he  might  suspicion  that  was  what  Master 
Hal  hit  me  with.  So?  Is  that  right,  that  way?" 

With  keen  judgment  he  squinted  at  the  club  and  gave 
it  a  final  touch.  The  kris,  also,  he  adjusted. 

"  I  didn't  know  Hal  touched  the  toad-stabber,  too," 
he  remarked.  "  But  I  guess  he  must  of.  It's  been 
moved  some,  that's  sure. 

"  I  guess  things  '11  do  now,"  judged  he,  satisfied. 
"  There's  many  a  slip  'twixt  the  cup  an  the  lip,  but 
there's  a  damn  sight  more  after  the  cup  has  been  at 
the  lip.  That's  all  that  made  Master  Hal  slip.  He 
didn't  know,  rightly,  what  he  was  up  to.  Forgive 


196  CURSED 

the  boy?  God  bless  him,  you  bet!  A  million  times 
over! 

"  But  that  doctor,  now,  what's  been  ratin'  Master 
Hal  down  —  no,  no,  he'll  never  be  no  friend  o'  mine! 
Well,  this  ain't  gittin'  dinner  ready  fer  Master  Hal. 
A  boy  what  can  dive  off  Geyser  Rock,  an'  lick  Mc- 
Laughlin,  an'  read  heathen  Chinee,  an'  capture  the 
purtiest  gal  in  this  town,  is  goin'  to  be  rationed  proper, 
or  I'm  no  cook  aboard  the  snuggest  craft  that  ever 
sailed  a  lawn,  with  lilacs  on  the  port  bow  an'  geraniums 
to  starb'd!" 

Ezra  gave  a  final,  self -assuring  glance  at  the  Malay 
club  that  had  so  nearly  ended  his  life,  and  turned  back 
to  his  galley  with  a  song  upon  his  lips : 

"A  Yankee  ship's  gone  down  the  river, 
Her  masts  an'  yard  they  shine  like  silver. 

Blow,  ye  winds,  I  long  to  hear  ye! 

Blow,  boys,  blow! 
Blow  to-day  an'  blow  to-morrer, 

Blow,  boys,  bully  boys,  blow! 

How  d'ye  know  she's  a  Yankee  clipper? 
By  the  Stars  and  Stripes  that  fly  above  her! 

Blow,  boys,  blow! 

An'  who  d'ye  think  is  captain,  of  her? 
One-Eyed  Kelly,  the  Bowery  runner  I 

Blow,  boys,  bully  boys,  blow! 

An'  what  d'ye  think  they  had  fer  dinner? 
Belayin'-pin  soup  an'  monkey's  liver ! 

Blow,  ye  winds,  I  long  to  hear  ye! 

Blow,  boys,  blow! 
Blow  to-day  an'  blow  to-morrer, 

Blow,  boys,  bully  boys,  blow!" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

GEYSER   ROCK 

Hal  Briggs  had  little  thought  of  trouble  as  he  strode 
away  in  search  of  Laura.  Very  hot  was  his  blood  as 
he  swung  down  the  shaded  street  toward  the  house  of 
Nathaniel  Maynard,  father  of  the  girl.  Some  of  the 
good  folk  frowned  and  were  silent  as  he  greeted  them, 
but  others  had  to  smile  and  raise  a  hand  of  recogni 
tion.  Still  at  some  distance  from  Laura's  house, 
the  boy  caught  sight  of  a  creamy-toned  voile  dress 
among  the  hollyhocks  in  the  side  yard.  He  whistled, 
waved  his  hand,  hurried  his  pace.  And  something 
leaped  within  him,  so  that  his  heart  beat  up  a  little 
thickly,  as  the  girl  waved  an  answering  hand. 

Another  look  came  to  his  eyes.  Another  light  be 
gan  to  burn  in  their  blue  depths. 

"Geyser  Rock!"  he  whispered.  "By  God,  the 
very  place !  " 

Geyser  Rock  boldly  fronts  the  unbroken  sweep  of 
the  sea  at  Thunder  Head.  Up  it  leaps,  sheer  two 
hundred  feet,  from  great  deeps.  Fifty  feet  from  the 
barnacle-crusted  line  of  high-tide  a  ledgelike  path  leads 
to  the  face  of  the  cliff.  From  this  ledge  Hal  often 
took  the  plunge  that  had  won  him  local  fame  —  a 
plunge  into  frothing  surf  that  even  in  the  calmest  of 
midsummer  days  was  never  still. 

Few  visitors  ever  struggle  up  through  sumacs,  brakes 
and  undergrowth,  to  gain  the  vantage-point  of  the 

197 


198  CURSED 

pinnacle.  Rolling  boulders,  slippery  ledge  and  dizzy 
ing  overlook  upon  the  shining  sea  deter  all  but  the 
hardy.  The  very  solitude  of  the  place  had  greatly 
endeared  it  to  Hal.  To  him  it  was  often  a  solace  and 
a  comfort  after  his  strange  fits  of  rage  and  viciousness. 

All  alone,  up  in  that  isolated  height,  he  had  passed 
long  hours  reading,  smoking,  musing  in  the  tiny  patch 
of  grass  there  under  the  canopy  of  the  white-birches' 
filigree  of  green,  or  under  the  huge  pine  that  carpeted 
the  north  slope  of  the  crest  with  odorous,  russet  spills. 
Some  of  his  happiest  hours  had  been  spent  on  the 
summit,  through  the  tree-tops  watching  sky-shepherds 
tend  their  flocks  across  the  pastures  infinitely  far  and 
blue  above  him. 

Strangely  secluded  was  the  top  of  Geyser  Rock. 
Though  it  lay  hardly  a  pistol-shot  from  the  main  coast- 
road,  it  seemed  almost  as  isolated  as  if  it  had  been 
down  among  the  Celebes. 

For  that  reason  Hal  loved  it  best  of  all,  with  its 
grasses,  flowers,  ferns  and  tangled  thickets,  its  rock- 
ridges  filigreed  with  silvery  lichens  or  sparkling  with 
white  quartz-crystals.  From  this  aerie  Hal  could 
glimpse  a  bit  of  the  village;  the  prim  church  spire; 
the  tiny,  far  gravestones  sleeping  on  Croft  Hill.  The 
solitude  of  this,  his  own  domain  by  right  of  conquest, 
had  grown  ever  more  dear  and  needful  to  him  as  he 
had  advanced  toward  manhood. 

Such  was  the  place  toward  which  Laura  and  he 
were  now  walking  along  the  road,  with  tilled  fields  and 
rock-bossed  rolling  hills  to  right  of  them;  and,  to 
their  left,  the  restless  flashings  of  the  sea. 

Laura  had  never  been  more  charming.  Her  happi 
ness  in  his  return  had  flushed  her  cheeks  with  color 
and  had  brightened  her  eyes  —  thoughtful,  deep,  loyal 
eyes  —  till  they  looked  clear  and  fresh  as  summer 
skies  after  rain. 


GEYSER  ROCK  199 

Everything  wholesome  and  glad  seemed  joined  in 
Laura;  her  health  and  spirits  were  like  the  morning 
breeze  itself  that  came  to  court  the  land,  from  the 
golden  sparklings  that  stretched  away  to  the  shadowed, 
purple  rim  of  the  ocean.  The  June  within  her  heart 
mirrored  itself  through  her  face,  reflecting  the  June 
that  overbrooded  earth  and  sea  and  sky. 

Hal  sensed  all  this  and  more,  as  with  critical  keen 
ness  he  looked  down  at  her,  walking  beside  him.  He 
noted  the  wind-blown  hair  that  shaded  her  eyes;  he 
saw  the  health  and  vigor  of  that  lithe,  firm-breasted 
young  body  of  hers.  His  look,  brooding,  glowed 
evilly.  Fifty  years  ago  thus  had  his  grandsire's  eyes 
kindled  at  sight  of  Kuala  Pahang  in  her  tight  little 
Malay  jacket.  And  as  if  words  from  the  past  had 
audibly  echoed  from  some  vibrant  chord  in  the  old- 
time  captain's  symphony  of  desire,  once  more  the 
thought  formed  in  his  brain:  i 

"  She's  mine,  the  girl  is!  She's  plump  as  a  young 
porpoise,  and,  by  God,  I'm  going  to  have  her!  " 

The  words  he  uttered,  though,  were  far  afield  from 
these.  He  was  saying : 

"  So  now,  Laura,  you  see  I  wasn't  really  to  blame, 
after  all.  '  A  lie  runs  round  the  world,  while  truth 
is  getting  on  its  sandals.'  That  proverb's  as  true  here 
as  in  Siam,  where  it  originated.  People  are  saying  I 
was  drunk  and  brutal,  and  all  that,  when  the  fact  is  — " 

"  I  know,  Hal,"  she  answered,  her  eyes  troubled. 
"  I  know  how  this  country  gossip  exaggerates.  But, 
even  so,  did  you  do  right  in  beating  Captain  Mc- 
Laughlin  as  you  did?  " 

"  It  was  the  only  thing  I  could  do,  Laura!  "  he  pro 
tested.  "  The  bully  tried  to  humiliate  me.  I  —  I  just 
licked  him,  that's  all.  You  wouldn't  want  me  to  be  a 
milksop,  would  you?  " 

"  No,  not  that,  Hal.     But  a  fair  fight  is  one  thing 


200  CURSED 

and  brutality  is  another.  And  then,  too,  they  say 
you'd  been  drinking." 

He  laughed  and  slid  his  hand  about  her  arm. 

"  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor,  Laura,  all  I'd  had 
was  just  a  little  nip  to  take  the  sea-chill  out  of  my 
bones.  Come,  now,  look  at  me,  and  tell  me  if  I  look 
like  a  thug  and  a  drunkard !  " 

He  stopped  in  the  deserted  road,  swung  the  girl 
round  toward  him,  and  laid  his  hands  on  her  shoul 
ders.  Through  the  sheer  thinness  of  her  dress  he  felt 
the  warmth  of  her.  The  low-cut  V  of  her  waist 
tempted  him,  dizzyingly,  to  plant  a  kiss  there ;  but  he 
held  steady,  and  met  her  questioning  eyes  with  a  look 
that  seemed  all  candor. 

For  a  long  moment  Laura  kept  silence,  searching 
his  face.  Far  off,  mournfully  the  bell-buoy  sent  in 
its  blur  of  musical  tolling  across  the  moving  sea-floor. 

"Well,  Laura,  do  I  look  a  ruffian?"  asked  Hal 
again,  smiling. 

Laura's  eyes  fell. 

"  I'm  going  to  believe  you,  Hal,  whatever  people 
say,"  she  whispered.  "  I'm  sorry  it  happened  at  all, 
but  I  suppose  that's  the  way  of  a  man.  You  won't 
do  anything  like  that  again,  though,  will  you?" 

«  No  —  dear !     Never !  " 

He  drew  her  toward  him,  but  she  shook  her  head 
and  pressed  him  back.  Wise  with  understanding, 
from  sources  of  deep  instinct,  he  let  her  go.  But  now 
the  fires  in  his  eyes  were  burning  more  hotly.  And 
as  they  once  more  started  down  along  the  road  he 
cast  on  her  a  glance  of  quick  and  all-inclusive  desire. 

Silence  a  minute  or  two.     Then  Hal  asked : 

"  Laura,  have  you  ever  been  up  Geyser  Rock  ?  " 

"  No.     Why  ?  "    Her  look  was  wondering. 

"Let's  go!" 

"  That's  pretty  rough  climbing  for  a  girl,  isn't  itjj  " 


GEYSER  ROCK  201 

"  Not  for  a  girl  like  you,  Laura.  You  can  make 
it,  all  right.  And  the  view  —  oh,  wonderful !  "  His 
enthusiasm  quickened  now  that  he  saw  her  coming  to 
his  hand.  "  On  a  clear  day  you  can  see  Cape  Ann, 
to  northward,  and  Cross  Rip  Light,  to  the  south. 
See  that  big  Norway  pine  right  there?  That's  where 
the  path  leads  in.  Come  on,  Laura !  " 

"  I  —  I  don't  know  — " 

"Afraid?" 

"  Not  where  you  are,  Hal,  to  protect  me !  " 

He  took  her  hand  and  drew  her  into  the  thick- 
wooded  path,  in  under  the  cool  green  shadows,  gold- 
sprinkled  with  the  magic  of  the  sun's  morris-dance 
of  little  elfin  light-fairies.  New  strength  seemed  to 
flood  him.  His  heart,  beginning  to  beat  quickly, 
flushed  his  face  with  hot  blood.  Something  as  yet 
tmawakened,  something  potent,  atavistic,  something 
that  had  its  roots  twined  far  into  the  past,  surged 
through  his  veins. 

"  Come  on,  Laura !  "  he  repeated.  "  Come  on,  I'll 
show  you  the  way !  " 

Half  an  hour  had  passed  before  they  stood  upon 
the  summit.  They  had  perhaps  lingered  a  bit  more 
than  needful,  even  with  so  many  leaves  and  flowers 
to  pick  and  study  over;  and,  moreover,  part  of  the 
way  their  progress  had  been  really  difficult.  Hal  had 
carried  her  in  his  arms  up  some  of  the  more  dangerous 
pitches  —  carried  her  quite  as  if  she  had  been  a  child. 
The  clinging  of  her  arms  to  his  shoulders,  the  warmth 
and  yielding  of  her,  the  blowing  of  her  hair  across 
his  face,  the  faint  perfume  of  her  alluring  femininity 
had  kindled  fires  that  glowed  from  his  eyes  —  eyes 
like  the  eyes  of  Alpheus  Briggs  in  the  old  days  when 
the  Malay  girl  had  been  his  captive.  Yet  still  the 
atavisms  in  him  had  been  stifled  down.  For  Hal  was 


202  CURSED 

sober  now.  And  still  the  metes  and  bounds  of  civiliza 
tion  and  of  law  had  held  the  boy  in  leash. 

Thus  they  had  reached  the  summit.  Far  up  past 
the  diving-ledge  they  had  made  their  way,  and  so 
had  climbed  to  the  little  sheltered  nook  facing  the  sky. 

"  I  think  you're  wonderful,  Laura !  "  Hal  said  as 
he  pressed  aside  the  bushes  for  her  to  enter  the  grassy 
sward.  His  voice  was  different  now;  his  whole  man 
ner  had  subtly  altered.  No  longer  words  of  college 
argot  came  to  his  lips.  "  I  think  you're  really  very 
wonderful!  There's  not  another  girl  in  this  town 
who'd  take  a  risk  like  this ! " 

"  It's  nothing,  Hal,"  she  answered,  looking  up  at 
him  in  the  sunshine  with  a  smile.  "  I  told  you  before 
I  couldn't  possibly  be  afraid  where  you  were.  How 
could  I  be  afraid?  " 

"  Lots  of  girls  would  be,  all  the  same,"  said  he, 
"  You're  just  a  wonder.  Well,  now,  let's  go  over 
there  to  the  edge.  I  won't  let  you  fall.  I  want  you 
to  see  the  view.  Just  through  that  fringe  of  birches 
there  you'll  see  it." 

With  quickened  breath  the  girl  peered  down  through 
the  trees,  at  land  and  sea  spread  far  below,  while  Hal's 
arm  held  her  from  disaster.  Branches  and  twigs  had 
pulled  at  her,  in  the  ascent.  Her  voile  dress  showed 
a  tear  or  two;  and  all  about  her  face  the  disordered 
hair  strayed  as  the  sea-breeze  freshened  over  the 
top  of  Geyser.  The  boy  kept  silence  that  matched 
hers.  A  kind  of  vague,  half-realized  struggle 
seemed  taking  place  in  him  —  a  conflict  between  the 
sense  of  chivalry,  protecting  this  woman  in  his  abso 
lute  power,  and  the  old  demon-clutch  that  reached  from 
other  days  and  other  places. 

Now,  though  his  thoughts  and  hers  lay  far  apart 
as  the  world's  poles,  each  felt  something  of  the  same 
mysterious  oppression.  For  the  first  time  quite  alone 


GEYSER  ROCK  203 

together,  up  there  aloft  in  that  snug,  sun-warm  nest 
embowered  in  greenery,  a  kind  of  mystic  and  half- 
sensed  languor  seemed  to  envelop  them;  a  yearning, 
that  is  older  than  old  Egypt;  a  wonder  and  a  dream. 
Hal's  arm  tightened  a  very  little  'round  her  body. 
She  felt  it  tremble,  and,  wondering,  understood  that 
she,  too,  felt  a  little  of  that  tremor  in  her  own  heart. 
She  realized  in  a  kind  of  half-sensed  way  that  more 
dangers  lay  here  than  the  danger  of  falling  from  the 
cliff.  Yet  in  her  soul  she  knew  that  she  was  glad  to 
be  there. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


Thus  she  remained,  holding  to  a  silver  birch,  lean 
ing  out  a  little  toward  the  chasm.  Up  from  the  depths 
echoed  a  gurgling  roar  as  the  white  fury  drenched 
and  belabored  the  gray,  sheer  wall,  then  fell  back, 
hissing. 

For  a  moment  Laura  peered  down,  held  by  the  boy's 
encircling  arm.  She  looked  abroad  upon  the  sun- 
shining  waters  flecked  with  far,  white  boats  and 
smudged  with  steamer-smoke.  Then  she  breathed 
deep  and  lifted  up  herv  face  toward  the  gold  filigree 
of  sun  and  leaf,  and  sighed: 

"Oh,  it's  wonderful,  Hal!  I  never  even  guessed 
it  could  be  anything  like  this!  " 

"  Wonderful  isn't  the  name  for  it,  Laura,"  he  an 
swered.  He  pointed  far.  "  See  the  lighthouse? 
And  Cape  Ann  in  the  haze?  And  the  toy  boats? 
Everything  and  everybody's  a  toy  now  except  just 
you  and  me.  We're  the  only  real  people.  I  wish  it 
were  really  so,  don't  you?  " 

"Why,  Hal?     What  would  you  do  if  it  were?" 

"  Oh,"  he  answered  with  that  heart-warming  smile 
of  his,  "  I'd  take  you  in  a  yacht,  Laura,  away  off  to 
some  of  those  wonderful  places  the  Oriental  poems 
tell  about.  We'd  sail  away  'through  the  Silken  Sea,' 
and  '  Beyond  the  Wind,'  wherever  that  is.  Wouldn't 
you  like  to  go  there  with  me,  dear?  " 

"Yes.     But—" 

"  But  what,  Laura?  "  His  lips  were  almost  brush- 

204 


LAURA  UNDERSTANDS  205 

ing  the  curve  of  her  neck,  where  the  wind-blown  hair 
fell  in  loose  ringlets.  "But  what?" 

"I  —  I  mustn't  answer  that,  Hal.     Not  now !  " 

"Why  not  now?" 

"  While  you're  still  in  college,  Hal?  While  there's 
so  much  work  and  struggle  still  ahead  of  you?  " 

The  boy  frowned,  unseen  by  her,  for  her  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  vague  horizons  beyond  which,  no  doubt, 
lay  Silken  Seas  and  far,  unknown  places  of  enchant 
ment  beyond  all  winds  whatsoever.  Not  thus  did  he 
desire  to  be  understood  by  Laura.  The  whim  of  June 
shrinks  from  being  mistaken  for  a  thing  of  lifelong 
import.  Laura  drew  back  from  the  chasm  and  faced 
him  with  a  little  smile. 

"  It's  very  wrong  for  people  to  make  light  of  such 
things,"  she  said.  Her  look  lay  steadily  upon  his  face. 
"  While  the  sun  is  shining  it's  so  easy  to  say  more 
than  one  means.  And  then,  at  the  first  cloud,  the 
fancy  dies  like  sunlight  fading." 

"  But  this  isn't  a  mere  fancy  that  I  feel  for  you," 
Hal  persisted,  sensing  that  he  had  lost  ground  with 
her.  "  I've  had  plenty  of  foolish  ideas  about  girls. 
But  this  is  different.  It's  so  very,  very  different  every 
way !  "  His  voice,  that  he  well  knew  how  to  make 
convincing,  really  trembled  a  little  with  the  thrill  of 
this  adventuring. 

"  I  wish  I  could  believe  you,  Hal !  " 

He  drew  her  toward  him  again.  This  time  she  did 
not  resist.  He  felt  the  yielding  of  her  sinuous  young 
body,  its  warmth  and  promise  of  intoxication. 

"  You  can  believe  me,  Laura !     Only  trust  in  me !  " 

"I  —  I  don't  know,  Hal.  I  know  what  men  are. 
They're  all  so  much  alike." 

"  Not  all,  dear !  You  ought  to  know  me  well 
enough  to  have  confidence  in  me.  Think  of  the  long, 
long  time  we've  known  each  other.  Think  of  the 


206  CURSED 

years  and  years  of  friendship!  Why,  Laura,  we've 
known  each  other  ever  since  we  were  a  couple  of  chil 
dren  playing  on  the  beach,  writing  each  other's  names 
in  the  sand  — " 

"  For  the  next  high  tide  to  wash  away !  " 

"  But  we're  not  children  now.  There's  something 
in  my  heart  no  tide  can  obliterate !  " 

"  I  hope  that's  true,  Hal.  But  you're  not  through 
college  yet.  Wait  till  you  are.  You've  got  to  grad 
uate  with  flying  colors,  and  make  your  dear  old  grand 
father  the  proudest  man  in  the  world,  and  be  the 
wonderful  success  I  know  you're  going  to  be!  And 
make  me  the  happiest  girl!  You  will,  won't  you?" 

"I'll  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you,  Laura!" 
he  exclaimed.  His  face,  flushed  with  enkindling  desire, 
showed  no  sign  of  shame  or  dejection.  Laura  knew 
nothing  of  his  debacle  at  the  university.  Of  course 
she  must  soon  know ;  but  all  that  still  lay  in  the  future. 
And  to  Hal  nothing  mattered  now  but  just  the  golden 
present  with  its  nectar  in  the  blossom  and  its  sunshine 
on  the  leaf.  He  drew  her  a  little  closer. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  whispered.     "  Do  you  really  care?  " 

"  Don't  ask  me  —  yet !  "  she  denied  him,  turning 
her  face  away.  "Come,  let's  be  going  down!" 

"  Why,  we've  only  just  come!  " 

"I  know,  but—" 

"You  needn't  be  afraid  of  me!"  he  exclaimed. 
"  You  aren't,  are  you,  dear?  " 

"  No  more  than  I  am  of  myself,"  she  answered 
frankly,  while  her  throat  and  face  warmed  with  blood 
that  suddenly  burned  there.  "  We  —  really  oughtn't 
to  be  alone  like  this,  Hal." 

He  laughed  and  opened  his  arms  to  let  her  go.  For 
a  moment  she  stood  looking  up  at  him ;  then  her  eyes, 
too  innocent  to  find  the  guile  in  his,  smiled  with  pure- 
hearted  affection. 


LAURA  UNDERSTANDS  207 

"  Forgive  me,  Hal !  "  said  she.  "  I  didn't  mean  that. 
But,  you  know,  when  you  put  your  arms  round  me  like 
that—" 

"  I  won't  do  it  again,"  he  answered,  instinct  telling 
him  the  bird  would  take  fright  if  the  trap  seemed  too 
tightly  closed.  He  dropped  his  arms,  the  palms  of 
his  hands  spread  outward.  "  You  see,  when  you  tell 
me  to  let  you  go,  I  mind  you?  " 

"  Yes,  like  the  good,  dear  boy  you  are !  "  she  ex 
claimed  with  sudden,  impulsive  affection.  She  reached 
up,  took  his  face  in  both  hands  and  studied  his  eyes. 
He  thought  she  was  about  to  kiss  him,  and  his  heart 
leaped.  He  quivered  to  seize  her,  to  burn  his  kisses 
on  her  lips,  there  in  the  leafy,  sun-glimmering  shade; 
but  already  Laura's  arms  had  fallen,  and  she  had 
turned  away,  back  toward  the  path  that  would  lead 
them  downward  from  this  tiny  enchanted  garden  to 
the  common  level  of  the  world  again. 

"  Come,  Hal,"  said  she,  "  we  must  be  going  now !  " 

He  nodded,  his  eyes  glowering  coals  of  desire,  and 
followed  after.  Was  the  bird,  then,  going  to  escape 
his  hand?  A  sinister  look  darkened  his  face;  just 
such  a  look  as  had  made  Captain  Briggs  a  brute  when 
he  had  shouldered  his  way  into  his  cabin  aboard  the 
Silver  Fleece,  to  master  the  captive  girl. 

"  Laura,  wait  a  minute,  please !  "  begged  Hal. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  she  asked,  half-turning,  a 
beautiful,  white,  gracious  figure  in  the  greenery  —  a 
very  wood-nymph  of  a  figure,  sylvan,  fresh,  enwoven 
with  life's  most  mystic  spell  —  the  magic  of  youth. 

"  You  haven't  seen  half  my  little  Mysterious  Island 
up  here!" 

"  Mysterious  Island  ?  "  asked  she,  pleased  by  the 
fanciful  whim.  "You  call  it  that,  do  you?" 

"  Yes,  I've  always  called  it  that  ever  since  I  read 
Jules  Verne,  when  I  was  only  a  youngster.  I've  never 


208  CURSED 

told  anybody,  though.  I  haven't  told  that,  or  a  hun 
dred  other  imaginings."  He  had  come  close  to  her 
again,  had  taken  her  by  the  arm,  was  drawing  her 
away  from  the  path  and  toward  the  little  flower- 
enameled  greensward  among  the  boulders  crowned 
with  birch  and  pine.  "  You're  the  only  one  that  knows 
my  secret,  Laura.  You'll  never,  never  tell,  now,  will 
you?" 

"  Never!  "  she  answered,  uneasiness  dispelled  by  his 
frank  air.  "  Do  you  imagine  things  like  that,  too, 
Hal?  I  thought  I  was  the  only  one  around  here  who 
ever  '  pretended.'  Are  you  a  dreamer,  too  ?  " 

"  Very  much  a  dreamer.  Sit  down  here,  Laura, 
and  let  me  tell  you  some  of  my  dreams." 

He  sat  down  in  the  grass,  and  drew  her  down  beside 
him.  She  yielded  "  half  willing  and  half  shy."  For 
a  moment  he  looked  at  her  with  eyes  of  desire.  Then, 
still  holding  her  hand,  he  said : 

"  It  was  all  fairies  and  gnomes  up  here  when  I  first 
came.  Fairyland  in  those  boyhood  days.  After  a 
while  the  fairies  went  away  and  pirates  began  to  come ; 
pirates  and  Indians  and  a  wild  crew.  I  was  sometimes 
a  victim,  sometimes  a  member  of  the  brotherhood. 
There's  treasure  buried  all  'round  here.  Those  were 
the  days  when  I  was  reading  about  Captain  Kidd  and 
Blackbeard.  You  understand?  " 

"Indeed  I  do!     Goon!" 

He  laughed,  as  her  mood  yielded  under  the  subtle 
mastery  of  his  voice,  his  eyes. 

"  Oh,  but  it's  a  motley  crew  we've  been  up  here, 
the  pirates  and  I !  "  said  he,  leaning  still  closer. 
"  '  Treasure  Island  '  peopled  the  place  with  adven 
turers  —  Long  John  Silver,  and  Pew  and  the  Doctor, 
and  all  the  rest.  '  Robinson  Crusoe '  swept  them  all 
away,  all  but  Man  Friday;  and  then  the  savages  had 


LAURA  UNDERSTANDS  209 

to  come.  If  there's  anything  at  all  I  haven't  suffered 
in  the  way  of  shipwreck,  starvation,  cannibals  and 
being  rescued  just  in  the  nick  of  time  up  here,  really 
I  don't  know  what  it  is.  And  since  I've  grown  up, 
though  of  course  I  can't  '  pretend '  any  more,  I've 
always  loved  this  place  to  day-dream  in,  and  wonder 
in,  about  the  thing  that  every  man  hopes  will  come 
to  him  some  day." 

"And  what's  that,  Hal?"  she  asked  in  a  lower 
voice. 

"Love!"   he   whispered.     "Love  —  and   you!" 

"  Hal,  is  that  really  true?  " 

"  Look  at  me,  Laura,  and  you'll  know !  " 

She  could  not  meet  his  gaze.  Her  eyes  lowered. 
He  drew  his  arm  about  her  as  she  drooped  a  little 
toward  him. 

"  Listen  to  me !  "  he  commanded,  masterfully  lying. 
"  There's  never  been  anybody  but  you,  Laura.  There 
never  will  be.  You've  been  in  all  my  dreams,  by  night, 
my  visions  by  day,  up  here  in  fairyland!  " 

His  words  were  coming  impetuously  now.  In  his 
eyes  the  golden  flame  of  desire  was  burning  hot. 

"You're  everything  to  me!  Everything!  I've 
sensed  it  for  a  long  time,  but  only  in  the  last  month 
or  two  I've  really  understood.  It  all  came  to  me  in 
a  kind  of  revelation,  Laura,  one  day  when  I  was 
translating  a  poem  from  the  Hindustani." 

"  A  poem,  Hal?  "  The  girl's  voice  was  tremulous. 
Her  eyes  had  closed.  Her  head,  resting  on  his  shoul 
der,  thrilled  him  with  ardor;  and  in  his  nostrils  the 
perfume  of  her  womanhood  conjured  up  shimmering 
dream-pictures  of  the  Orient  —  strange  lands  that, 
though  unseen,  he  mysteriously  seemed  to  know. 
"  Tell  me  the  poem,  dear !  "  Laura  whispered.  "  A 
love-poem?  " 


210  CURSED 

"  Such  a  love-poem !  Listen,  sweetheart !  It's  a 
thousand  years  old,  and  it  comes  from  the  dim  past  to 
tell  you  what  I  feel  for  you.  It  runs  this  way : 

"  Beloved,  were  I  to  name  the  blossoms  of  the  spring, 
And  all  the  fruits  of  autumn's  bounteousness ; 
Were  I  to  name  all  things  that  charm  and  thrill, 
And  earth,  and  Heaven,  all  in  one  word  divine, 
I  would  name  thee ! 

"  Had  I  the  gold  of  Punjab's  golden  land, 
Had  I  as  many  diamonds,  shining  bright 
As  leaves  that  tremble  in  a  thousand  woods, 
Or  sands  along  ten  thousand  shining  seas; 
Had  I  as  many  pearls  of  shifting  hue 
As  blades  of  grass  in  fields  of  the  whole  world, 
Or  stars  that  shine  on  the  broad  breast  of  night, 
I'd  give  them  all,  a  thousand,  thousand  times, 
To  make  thee  mine !  " 

For  a  minute,  while  Hal  watched  her  with  calcula 
tion,  Laura  kept  silence.  Then  she  looked  up  at  him, 
dreamy-eyed,  and  smiled. 

"  That's  wonderful,  Hal.  I  only  wish  you  meant 
it!" 

"  You  know  I  do !  I  want  you,  Laura  —  God,  how 
much !  You're  all  I  need  to  make  my  fairyland  up 
here  a  heaven !  " 

"  What  —  what  do  you  mean,  Hal  ?  Are  you  ask 
ing  me  to  —  to  be  your  wife?" 

His  face  contracted,  involuntarily,  but  he  veiled  his 
true  thought  with  a  lie.  What  mattered  just  a  lie  to 
gain  possession  of  her  in  this  golden  hour  of  sunshine? 

"Yes,  yes,  of  course!"  he  cried,  drawing  her  to 
his  lips  in  a  betraying  kiss  —  a  kiss,  to  her,  culminant 
with  wonder  and  mystic  with  a  good  woman's  aspira 
tion  for  a  life  of  love  and  service  —  a  kiss,  to  him, 
only  a  trivial  incident,  lawless,  unbridled.  At  heart  he 


LAURA  UNDERSTANDS  21  r 

cursed  the  girl's  pure  passion  for  him.  Not  this  was 
what  he  wanted;  and  dimly,  even  through  the  flame 
of  his  desire,  he  could  see  a  hundred  complications, 
perils.  But  now  the  lie  was  spoken  —  and  away  with 
to-morrow ! 

Again  he  kissed  the  girl,  sensing,  in  spite  of  his 
desire,  the  different  quality  of  her  returning  kiss. 
Then  she  smiled  up  at  him,  and  with  her  hand  smoothed 
back  the  thick,  black  hair  from  his  forehead. 

"  It's  all  so  wonderful,  Hal !  "  she  whispered  fondly. 
"  I  can't  believe  it's  true.  But  it  is  true,  isn't  it? 
Even  though  we've  got  to  wait  till  you  get  through 
college.  I'm  willing  to.  I  love  you  enough,  Hal,  to 
wait  forever.  And  you  will,  too,  won't  you?  " 

"Of  — of  course  I  will!" 

"And  it's  really,  really  true?  It's  not  just  a  fairy 
dream  of  wonderland,  up  here,  that  will  vanish  when 
we  go  down  to  the  world  again?  " 

"  No,  no,  it's  all  true,  Laura,"  he  was  forced  to  an 
swer,  baffled  and  at  a  loss.  Not  at  all  was  this  adven 
ture  developing  as  he  had  planned  it.  Why,  Laura 
was  taking  it  seriously!  Laura  was  acting  like  a 
child  —  a  foolish,  preposterous  child !  The  web  that 
he  had  hoped  to  spread  for  her  undoing  had,  because 
of  her  own  trusting  confidence,  been  tangled  all  about 
himself. 

Abashed  and  angry,  he  sought  some  way  to  break 
its  bonds.  Another  poem  rose  to  memory,  a  poem 
that  he  hoped  might  make  her  understand.  He  had 
read  it  the  day  before  in  a  little  book  called  "  The 
Divine  Image,"  and  it  had  instantly  burned  itself  into 
his  brain.  Now  said  he : 

"  Listen,  dear.  I've  got  another  verse  for  you. 
It's  called:  '  His  Woman." 

"And  I'm  really  yours,  forever?" 

"Of  course  you  are,  dear !     Listen,  now : 


212  CURSED 

" '  In  the  pale,  murmuring  dawn  she  lay 

Alone,  with  nothing  more  to  lose. 
Her  eyes  one  warm,  soft  arm  espied, 
And  lips  too  tired  to  voice  her  pride 
Caressed  and  kissed  a  bruise.' " 

The  girl  looked  up  at  him  a  moment,  circled  with 
his  arm,  as  she  lay  there  content.  For  a  little  she 
seemed  not  to  understand.  Then,  slowly,  a  puzzled 
look  and  then  a  look  of  hurt  rose  to  her  eyes. 

"  Hal,  you  —  you  mustn't  — " 

"Why  mustn't  I,  dear?" 

She  tried  to  answer,  but  his  lips  upon  her  mouth 
stifled  her  speech. 

Swift  fear  leaped  through  her  as  she  fought  away 
from  him. 

"  Oh,  Hal !  "  she  cried.  "  What  —  what  are  you 
looking  at  me  that  way  for  ?  Your  eyes,  Hal  —  your 
eyes  — " 

In  vain  he  tried  to  kiss  her.  Her  face  was  turned 
away,  her  hands  repulsing  him. 

"  Kiss  me,  Laura!     Kiss  me!  " 

"  No,  no  —  not  now !  Oh,  Hal,  you  have  only  your 
self  to  resist.  I  have  you  to  resist,  and  myself,  too !  " 

The  thought  gave  him  a  minute's  pause.  Did  some 
instinct  of  chivalry,  deep-buried,  try  for  a  second  to 
struggle  up  through  his  evil  heritage,  or  was  it  but 
surprise  that  loosed  his  grip  upon  her  so  that  she  es 
caped  his  hands,  his  arms? 

"  God  forgive  you,  Hal,  for  having  killed  the  most 
wonderful  treasure  I  had  —  my  faith  in  you !  "  she 
cried  from  where  she  stood  now,  looking  down  at  him 
with  tragic  eyes  of  disillusion.  "  Oh,  God  forgive 
you!" 

He  would  have  spoken,  but  she  turned  and  fled 
toward  the  tangled  thicket  through  which  the  path  led 
downward. 


LAURA  UNDERSTANDS  213 

"  Laura !  Wait ! "  He  sprang  to  his  feet,  peer 
ing  after  her  with  hateful  eyes.  No  answer  as  she 
vanished  through  the  greenery. 

For  all  his  rage  and  passion,  Hal  realized  how  ab 
surd  a  figure  he  would  make,  pursuing  her.  Swift 
anger  swept  over  him,  broke  all  down,  rushed  in  uncon 
trolled  floods. 

A  moment  he  stood  there,  brutal,  venomous.  Then 
with  a  laugh,  the  echo  of  that  which  had  sounded  when 
Alpheus  Briggs  had  flung  the  Malay  girl  to  death,  he 
clutched  at  his  thick  hair,  tugging  at  it  with  excess  of 
madness.  He  broke  into  wild  curses  that  rose  against 
the  sky  with  barbarous  blasphemy. 

Foam  slavered  upon  his  lips.  His  face  grew  black ; 
the  veins  stood  out  upon  his  neck  and  temples.  A 
madman,  he  trampled  through  the  bushes,  stamping, 
striking,  lusting  to  kill. 

So  for  a  time  he  raged  in  blind,  stark  passion ;  while 
Laura,  shaken  and  afraid,  bleeding  at  her  heart  of 
hearts,  made  her  way  all  alone  back  to  the  safety  of 
the  seashore  road. 

At  last,  his  rage  burned  out,  Hal  flung  himself  down 
in  the  grass.  Face  buried  in  hands,  teeth  set  in  bleed 
ing  lip,  he  lay  there. 

And  over  him  the  heavens,  like  an  eyeless  face, 
smiled  down  with  calm,  untroubled  purpose. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE   GARDEN   OF   GETHSEMANE 

Sadly  returning  home,  Laura  stopped  for  a  moment 
at  her  garden  gate  to  make  quite  sure  her  father  was 
not  in  the  side  yard.  With  all  her  girlish  dreams 
broken  and  draggled,  the  heartbroken  girl  stood  look 
ing  at  the  flowers  that  only  an  hour  before  had  seemed 
so  wondrous  gay.  And  all  at  once  she  heard  the  sound 
of  wheels  upon  the  road.  Turning,  she  saw  old  Cap 
tain  Briggs  and  Dr.  Filhiol  slowly  driving  toward 
Snug  Haven. 

Half-minded  to  retreat  inside  the  garden,  still  she 
stood  there,  for  already  Captain  Briggs  had  raised  a 
hand  in  greeting.  Every  feature  of  the  old  captain's 
face  was  limned  with  grief.  His  shoulders  seemed  to 
sag,  bowed  down  with  heavier  weight  than  his  almost 
eighty  years  could  pile  upon  them. 

So  the  girl  remained  at  the  gate,  greatly  sorrowing; 
and  peered  after  the  two  old  men.  Though  she  could 
not  guess  the  captain's  trouble,  her  woman's  instinct 
told  her  this  trouble  bore  on  Hal.  And  over  her  own 
grief  settled  still  another  cloud  that  darkened  it  still 
more. 

Puzzled,  disillusioned,  she  swung  the  gate  and  en 
tered  the  prim  paths  bordered  with  low  box-hedges. 
No  one  saw  her.  Quietly  she  entered  the  house  and 
crept  up-stairs  to  her  own  room.  There,  in  that  vir 
ginal  place,  she  dropped  down  on  her  old-fashioned, 
four-posted  bed  of  black  walnut,  and  buried  her  face  in 

214 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GETHSEMANE  215 

the  same  pillows  to  which,  girl-like,  she  had  often  con 
fided  so  many  innocent  and  tender  dreams. 

As  the  girl  lay  there,  crying  for  the  broken  bauble, 
love,  crushed  in  the  brutal  hand  of  Hal,  old  Captain 
Briggs  and  Dr.  Filhiol  —  once  more  back  on  the  quar 
ter-deck  of  Snug  Haven  —  settled  themselves  for  de 
jected  consultation. 

"  I  never  did  expect  'twould  be  as  much  as  that,"  the 
captain  said,  mechanically  stuffing  his  pipe.  "  I  reck 
oned  maybe  fifty  dollars  would  pay  demurrage  and  re 
pairs  on  Mac.  McLaughlin  isn't  worth  more,  rig  and 
all.  But,  Judas  priest,  two  hundred  and  a  half! 
That's  running  into  money.  Money  I  can  ill  afford 
to  pay,  sir !  " 

"  I  know,"  the  doctor  answered.  "  It's  cruel  extor 
tion.  But  what  can  you  do,  captain?  McLaughlin 
holds  the  tiller  now.  He  can  steer  any  course  he 
chooses.  The  fact  that  he  started  at  five  hundred,  plus 
the  apology  that  he  demands  from  Hal  on  the  deck  of 
the  Sylvia  in  front  of  the  whole  crew,  and  that  we've 
pared  him  down  to  two  hundred  and  fifty,  plus  the 
apology  —  that's  a  very  great  gain.  It's  bad,  I  know, 
but  not  so  bad  as  having  had  the  boy  locked  up,  charged 
with  felonious  assault.  It's  not  so  bad  as  that,  sir!" 

"  No,  no,  of  course  not,"  Briggs  agreed.  "  I  sup 
pose  I've  got  to  pay,  though  Lord  knows,  sir,  the 
money's  needed  terribly  for  other  things,  now  that 
the  college  bill  has  got  to  be  settled  all  over  again !  " 

"  I  know  it's  hard,"  sympathized  the  doctor,  "  but 
there's  no  help  for  it.  Wipe  the  slate  clean,  and  give 
Hal  another  start.  That's  all  you  can  do." 

The  old  captain  remained  smoking  and  brooding  a 
while,  with  sunshine  on  his  head.  At  last  his  eyes 
sought  the  far,  deep  line  of  blue  that  stretched  against 
the  horizon  —  the  sea-line,  lacking  which  the  old  man 
always  sensed  a  vacancy,  a  loss. 


216  CURSED 

"  Close  on  to  six  bells,"  judged  he,  "  by  the  way  the 
sun's  shining  on  the  water.  Wonder  where  the  boy 
can  be?  I've  got  to  have  a  proper  gam  with  him." 

"  Why?     Where  ought  he  to  be?  "  the  doctor  asked. 

"  He  must  have  put  back  into  port,  after  his  little 
cruise  with  Laura,  this  morning.  We  sighted  her, 
moored  at  her  front  gate,  you  remember?  " 

"  H-m !  You  don't  suppose  there's  trouble  brewing 
there  too,  do  you?  I  thought  the  girl  looked  upset, 
didn't  you?  " 

"  /  didn't  notice  anything.  What  seemed  to  be  the 
matter?  " 

"  I  thought  she'd  been  crying  a  bit." 

The  captain  clenched  his  fist. 

"  By  the  Judas  priest !  "  he  exclaimed  fervently. 
"  If  I  thought  Hal  had  been  abusing  that  girl,  I'd 
make  it  hot  for  him !  That's  one  thing  I  won't  stand !  " 
He  peered  down  the  road  with  narrowing  eyes,  then 
got  up  and  went  to  the  front  door.  "  Hal,  oh,  Hal !  " 
he  cried. 

No  answer.  The  captain's  voice  echoed  emptily  in 
the  old-fashioned  hallway. 

"  Not  here,  anyhow,"  said  he,  returning  to  his 
rocker.  "  Well,  we  won't  accuse  him  of  anything  else 
till  we  know.  I  only  hope  he  hasn't  written  any  more 
black  pages  on  the  log  by  mishandling  Laura." 

Wearily  his  eyes  sought  Croft  Hill.  Of  a  sudden 
unbidden  tears  blurred  his  sight. 

"  There's  a  peaceful  harbor  for  old,  battered  craft, 
anyhow,"  he  murmured,  pointing.  "  I  sometimes  envy 
all  the  tired  folk  that's  found  sleep  and  rest  up  there  in 
their  snug  berths,  while  we  still  stand  watch  in  all 
weathers.  If,  after  all  I've  worked  and  hoped  for, 
there's  nothing  ahead  but  breakers,  I'll  envy  them  more 
than  ever." 

"  Come  now,  captain !  "  Filhiol  tried  to  cheer  him. 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GETHSEMANE  217 

"  Maybe  it  was  only  a  little  lovers'  quarrel  that  sent 
Laura  home.  There's  never  all  smooth  sailing,  with 
maid  and  man  for  a  crew.  Let's  wait  a  while  and 
see." 

"  Yes,  wait  and  think  it  over,"  said  the  captain. 
"  There's  only  one  place  for  me,  doctor,  when  things 
look  squally,  and  that's  with  my  folks  on  the  hill. 
Guess  I'll  take  a  walk  up  there  now  and  talk  it  over 
with  them.  Come  with  me,  will  you?" 

Filhiol  shook  his  head. 

"  Too  much  for  me,  that  hill  is,"  he  answered.  "If 
you  don't  mind,  I'll  sit  right  here  and  watch  the  sea." 

"  Suit  yourself,  doctor."  And  Captain  Briggs 
arose.  "  When  Ezra  comes  down  the  lane  tell  him  not 
to  bother  with  dinner.  A  little  snack  will  do.  Let's 
each  of  us  think  this  thing  out,  and  maybe  we  can  chart 
the  proper  course  between  us." 

He  stood  a  moment  in  the  sunshine,  then,  bare 
headed,  went  down  the  steps  and  turned  into  the  path 
that  would  lead  him  up  Croft  Hill.  He  stopped,  gath 
ering  a  handful  of  bright  flowers  —  zinnias,  holly 
hocks,  sweet  peas  —  for  his  ever-remembered  dead. 
Then  he  went  on  again. 

"  Poor  old  chap!  "  said  Dr.  Filhiol.  "  The  curse  is 
biting  pretty  deep.  That's  all  poppycock,  that  Malay 
cursing ;  but  the  curses  of  heredity  are  stern  reality. 
There's  a  specific  for  every  poison  in  the  world.  Even 
the  dread  curare  has  one.  But  for  the  poison  of 
heredity,  what  remedy  is  there  ?  Poor  old  captain !  " 

Alpheus  Briggs,  with  bowed  head,  climbed  up  the 
winding  way  among  the  blackberry  bushes,  the  sumacs 
and  wild  roses  dainty-sweet;  and  so  at  last  came  to 
the  wall  pierced  with  the  whitewashed  gate  that  he 
himself  kept  always  in  repair. 

Into  the  cemetery,  his  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  he 
penetrated,  by  paths  flanked  with  simple  and  pious 


2i8  CURSED 

stones,  many  of  hard  slate  carved  with  death's-heads, 
urns,  cherubs  and  weeping-willows,  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  ancient,  godly  days.  Thus  to  his  family 
burial  lot  he  came,  and  there  laid  his  offering  upon  the 
graves  he  loved;  and  then  sat  down  upon  the  bench 
there,  for  meditation  in  this  hour  of  sorrow  and  per 
plexity. 

And  as  sun  and  sky  and  sea,  fresh  breeze  and  drift 
ing  cloud,  and  the  mild  influences  of  his  lifelong  friend, 
tobacco,  all  worked  their  soothings  on  him,  he  pres 
ently  plucked  up  a  little  heart  once  more.  The  near 
ness  of  his  dead  bade  him  have  hope  and  courage.  He 
felt,  in  that  quiet  and  solemn  place,  the  tightening  of 
his  family  bonds;  he  felt  that  duty  called  him  to  lift 
even  these  new  and  heavy  burdens,  to  bear  them 
valiantly  and  like  a  man. 

With  the  graves  about  him  and  the  sea  before,  and 
over  all  the  heavens,  calm  returned.  And  sorrow  — 
which,  like  anger,  cannot  long  be  keen  —  faded  into 
another  thought:  the  thought  of  how  he  should  make 
of  Hal  the  man  that  he  would  have  him  be. 

How  restful  was  this  sunlit  hilltop,  where  he  knew 
that  soon  he,  too,  must  sleep!  The  faint,  far  cries 'of 
gulls  drifted  in  to  him  with  the  bell-buoy's  slow  tolling; 
and  up  from  the  village  rose  the  music  of  the  smitten 
anvil.  That  music  minded  him  of  a  Hindustani  poem 
Hal  once  had  read  to  him  —  a  poem  about  the  black 
smith,  Destiny,  beating  out  showers  of  sparks  upon  the 
cosmic  anvil  in  the  night  of  eternity,  each  spark  a 
human  soul;  and  each,  swiftly  extinguished,  worth  just 
as  much  to  Destiny  as  earthly  anvil  sparks  are  to  the 
human  toiler  at  the  forge  —  as  much  and  no  more. 

The  poem  had  thus  ended : 

"  All  is  Maya,  all  is  illusion !     Why  struggle,  then  ? 

To  walk  is  better  than  to  run ;  to  stand  is  better  than  to  walk. 

To  sit  is  better  than  to  stand ;  to  lie  is  better  than  to  sit. 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GETHSEMANE  219 

To  sleep  is  better  than  to  wake;  to  dream  is  better  than  to 

live. 

Better  still  is  a  sleep  that  is  dreamless, 
And  death  is-  best  of  all !  " 

"I  wonder  if  that's  true?"  the  captain  mused. 
"  I  wonder  if  life  is  all  illusion  and  death  alone  is  real  ?  " 

Thus  meditating,  he  felt  very  near  the  wife  and  son 
who  lay  there  beneath  the  flowers  he  had  just  laid  on 
the  close-cut  sod.  The  cloud-shadows,  drifting  over 
the  hilltop,  seemed  symbols  of  the  transitory  passage  of 
man's  life,  unstable,  ever  drifting  on,  and  leaving  on 
the  universe  no  greater  imprint  than  shadows  on  the 
grass.  He  yearned  toward  those  who  had  gone  to 
rest  before  him;  and  though- not  a  praying  man,  a  sup 
plication  voiced  itself  in  him : 

"  Oh,  God,  let  me  finish  out  my  work,  and  let  me 
rest !  Let  me  put  the  boy  on  the  right  course  through 
life,  and  let  me  know  he'll  follow  it  —  then,  let  me 
steer  for  the  calm  harbor  where  Thou,  my  Pilot,  wilt 
give  me  quiet  from  the  storm!  " 

Thus  the  old  captain  sat  there  for  a  long  time,  pond 
ering  many  and  sad  things ;  and  all  at  once  he  saw  the 
figure  of  a  man  in  white  coming  along  the  road.  The 
captain  knew  him  afar. 

"  There's  Hal  now,"  said  he.  "  I  wonder  where 
he's  been  and  what  this  all  means?  " 

A  new  anxiety  trembled  through  his  wounded  heart, 
that  longed  for  nothing  now  but  love  and  trust.  Up 
rose  the  old  captain,  and  with  slow  steps  walked  to  the 
eastern  wall  of  the  cemetery.  There  he  waited  pa 
tiently. 

Presently  Hal  came  into  sight,  round  the  shoulder 
of  Croft  Hill. 

"  Ahoy,  there !  Hal !  Come  here  —  I  want  to  see 
you!" 

The  old  man's  cry  dropped  with  disagreeable  surprise 


220  CURSED 

into  Hal's  sinister  reflections.  Hal  looked  up,  and 
swore  to  himself.  He  sensed  the  meaning  of  that 
summons. 

"  There's  another  damned  scene  coming,"  thought 
Hal.  "  Why  the  hell  can't  he  let  me  alone  now  ? 
Why  can't  everybody  let  me  alone  ?  " 

Nothing  could  now  have  been  more  inopportune  than 
an  interview  with  his  grandfather.  Hal  —  his  rage 
burned  out  to  ashes  —  had  come  down  from  Geyser 
JRock,  and  had  turned  homeward  in  evil  humor.  And 
as  he  had  gone  he  had  already  begun  to  lay  out  tenta 
tive  plans  for  what  he  meant  to  do. 

"  It's  all  bull,  what  Laura  handed  me !  "  he  had  been 
thinking  when  the  captain's  summons  had  intruded. 
"  Am  I  going  to  let  her  throw  me  that  way?  I  guess 
mot!  I'll  land  her  yet ;  but  not  here,  not  here !  I  can't 
stick  here.  The  way  I'm  in  wrong  with  the  college,  and 
now  this  new  roughhouse  with  Laura,  will  certainly 
put  the  crimp  in  me.  What  I've  got  to  do  is  clear  out. 
And  I  won't  go  alone,  at  that.  If  I  only  had  a  twenty- 
five  footer!  I  could  get  her  aboard  of  it  some  way. 
The  main*  thing's  a  boat.  The  rest  is  easy.  I  could 
let  them  whistle,  all  of  them.  The  open  sea  —  that's 
the  thing !  That's  a  man's  way  to  do  things  —  not  go 
sniveling  'round  here  in  white  flannels  all  summer, 
letting  a  girl  hand  it  to  me  that  way ! 

"  God,  if  I  could  only  raise  five  hundred  bucks!  I 
could  get  Jim  Gordon's  Kittkvink  for  that,  and  pro 
vision  it,  too.  Make  a  break  for  Cuba,  or  Honduras; 
why,  damn  it,  I  could  go  round  the  world  —  go  East  — 
get  away  from  all  this  preaching  and  rough-house  — 
live  like  a  man,  by  God !  " 

The  captain's  hail  shattered  Hal's  dreams. 

"  Devil  take  the  old  man !  "  snarled  Hal  to  himself  as 
"he  scowled  up  at  the  figure  on  the  hilltop.  "  What's  he 
•want  now?  And  devil  take  all  women!  They're  like 


THE  GARDEN  OF  GETHSEMANE     221. 

dogs.  Beat  a  dog  and  a  woman,  and  you  can't  go 
wrong.  I'll  play  this  game  to  win  yet,  and  make  good ! 
Hello,  up  there?"  he  shouted  in  reply  to  the  captain. 
"  What  d'you  want  of  me  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  talk  with  you,  Hal,"  the  old  man's  voice 
came  echoing  down.  "  Come  here,  sir !  " 

Another  moment  Hal  hesitated.  Then,  realizing 
that  he  could  not  yet  raise  the  banner  of  open  rebel 
lion,  he  turned  and  lagged  toward  the  road  that  led  up 
the  south  side  of  the  hill. 

As  he  climbed,  he  put  into  the  background  of  his 
brain  the  plans  he  had  been  formulating,  and  for  the 
more  pressing  need  of  the  future  began  framing  plaus 
ible  lies. 

He  lighted  a  Turkish  cigarette  as  he  entered  the 
graveyard,  to  give  himself  a  certain  nonchalance;  and 
so,  smoking  this  thing  which  the  old  captain  par 
ticularly  abominated,  swinging  his  shoulders,  he  came 
along  the  graveled  walk  toward  the  family  burying 
lot,  where  once  more  Captain  Briggs  had  sat  down 
upon  the  bench  to  wait  for  him. 


The  old  man  said  nothing  at  all,  as  Hal  drew  near, 
but  only  peered  at  him  from  under  those  white-thatched 
brows  of  his,  with  eyes  of  stern  reproach.  This  still 
further  quickened  Hal's  apprehension  and  blew  to  a 
kindling  fire  the  glowing  embers  of  venomous  ill- 
humor. 

For  all  his  swagger,  Hal  could  not  bring  himself  to 
look  the  captain  in  the  eye.  Hands  in  pockets,  ciga 
rette  in  lips,  he  came  close  and  stood  there ;  and  with 
defiant  surliness  on  his  tanned  face  managed  to  say : 

"  Well,  gramp,  what  now?  Getting  ready  to  pan  me 
properly,  are  you?  If  so,  when  ready,  Gridley,  you 
can  fire !  " 

"  Hal,"  answered  the  old  man,  "  that's  the  last  im 
pertinence  you're  ever  going  to  utter  to  me!  So  re 
member.  Sit  down  and  answer  my  questions." 

"  I  can  take  it  standing,  all  right !  "  said  Hal,  defiant 
still. 

"  I  said,  sit  down,  sir!  " 

Making  no  answer  this  time,  the  boy  hulked  his 
surly  way  toward  the  ancient,  flat-topped  tomb,  the 
granite  slab  of  which  —  supported  on  six  stone  pillars 
—  bore  the  name  "  Amalfi  Briggs." 

"Not  there,  sir!"  exclaimed  the  captain  sternly. 
"  Have  you  no  respect  for  either  dead  or  living  ?  Here 
on  this  bench  beside  me !  Sit  down,  I  tell  you !  " 

Hal  slouched  down  beside  his  grandfather,  his  huge 
shoulders  sagging.  A  strange  resemblance  grew  visible 

222 


HIS  WORD  OF  HONOR  223 

between  these  two  —  young  man  and  old ;  black-haired 
and  white. 

"Well,  now  what  is  it?"  demanded  Hal  with  an 
oblique  glance. 

"  The  first  thing,  sir,  is  that  I'm  going  to  be  obeyed, 
without  question  and  without  any  back  talk.  I  never 
took  it  aboard  my  ships,  and  I'm  not  going  to  stand 
any  impertinence.  I'm  an  old  man,  but  I'm  still  cap 
tain  of  Snug  Harbor.  As  long  as  there's  a  breath  of 
air  in  my  lungs  or  a  drop  of  blood  in  my  veins,  I'm 
going  to  give  orders  there;  and  those  that  don't  like 
them  will  have  to  sail  with  some  other  skipper.  Do 
you  understand  that?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  boy,  more  subdued  in  tone. 
This  new  note  of  his  grandfather's  told  him  real  busi 
ness  was  up-wind. 

"  Very  well,  then.  That's  understood,"  continued 
Alpheus,  grimly.  "  You  are  subordinate  to  me.  That 
point  ought  never  to  have  been  raised  at  all,  and  with  a 
right-minded  grandson  it  never  would  have  been.  But 
since  you've  shown  yourself  rebellious,  it's  got  to  be. 
I'm  master,  and  you're  man.  Don't  ever  forget  that, 
sir.  If  you  do,  into  the  small  boat  you  go,  and  away; 
and,  once  you've  gone,  there's  no  Jacob's-ladder  down 
the  side  for  you  ever  again !  " 

"All  right,  sir.     What  next?" 

"  Next,  throw  away  that  infernal  cigarette,  sir. 
There'll  be  no  cigarettes  smoked  here  in  presence  of  our 
dead !  " 

"  But,  gramp,  you've  been  smoking  that  rank  old 
pipe  here !  " 

The  cigarette,  dashed  from  Hal's  mouth,  would 
have  burned  a  hole  in  the  white  flannel  trousers  had 
not  Hal  swiftly  brushed  its  fire  away.  Hal's  eyes 
glowered  with  swift  anger,  but  he  held  his  tongue. 
The  captain  began  again: 


224  CURSED 

"  Where  have  you  been,  sir?  " 

"  Been  ?  Why  —  nowhere  —  just  taking  a  walk 
with  Laura.  That's  all." 

"  H-m!     Why  didn't  you  come  back  with  her?  " 

"  She  —  got  mad  at  something,  and  — " 

Hal's  face  grew  ugly.  With  savage  eyes  he  re 
garded  the  old  man. 

"  Mad  at  what?     What  did  you  say  to  her?  " 

"Nothing,  gramp,  so  help  me!  She  got  jealous 
about  another  girl  in  Boston,  that's  all." 

"  Very  well,  sir.  I  hope  that  is  all.  If  you've  been 
lying  to  me,  or  if  you've  hurt  one  hair  of  that  girl's 
head,  it'll  be  a  bad  day  for  you,  sir !  Now  then,  listen 
to  me!  You've  got  me  into  shoal  waters,  on  a  lee 
shore,  with  your  evil  ways.  Yes,  and  you've  got 
yourself  there,  too.  I've  been  to  see  Squire  Bean  this 
morning,  on  account  of  your  assault  on  Fergus  Mc- 
Laughlin." 

"  Assault,  nothing !  That  was  a  fair  fight,  and  I 
trimmed  him." 

"  Legally,  it's  assault  and  battery.  Do  you  know 
how  much  it's  going  to  cost  me  to  keep  you  out  of  court 
and  clear  the  name  of  Briggs?  Cash  money,  sir. 
Money  that  would  have  been  yours  later,  but  that  I've 
got  to  take  out  of  my  safe  now  because  of  your  evil 
doings?  " 

"  Out  of  the  safe?  "  asked  Hal,  his  thoughts  diverted 
into  a  new  channel.  He  was  going  to  add :  "  I  thought 
you  kept  your  money  in  the  Endicutt  National."  But 
he  nipped  the  words  before  they  could  escape  him. 
The  captain,  too  wrought  up  to  notice  the  gleam  in  his 
grandson's  eyes  or  the  evil  portent  of  the  question,  re 
peated  : 

"  Do  you  know  how  much  it's  going  to  cost  me, 
sir?" 


HIS  WORD  OF  HONOR  225 

"Starch  me!" 

"  Two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  sir." 

"You're  kidding!" 

"  That  will  do,  sir,  for  that  kind  of  language  in  hear 
ing  of  our  family  dead !  " 

"Excuse  me,  gramp  —  I  forgot  myself!"  Hal 
apologized,  feigning  contrition.  "  You  don't  mean  to 
tell  me  McLaughlin  has  the  nerve  to  ask  that  much  — 
and  can  collect  it?  " 

"  He  asked  five  hundred,  but  Dr.  Filhiol's  help  re 
duced  the  claim.  I've  agreed  to  pay.  That's  a  hard 
blow  to  me,  Hal,  but  there's  far  worse.  I  got  a  letter 
from  the  college  this  morning  that  carried  away  all 
canvas.  It  brought  me  heavy,  bad  news,  Hal !  " 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  Hal  moodily,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  close-trimmed  grass.  "  It  was  bound  to  come ! 
I'm  fired  from  college !  " 

"  And  yet  you  went  gallivanting  off  with  Laura, 
and  never  even  reported  it  to  me !  " 

"  I  knew  you'd  find  it  out  soon  enough.  Yes,  I'm  on 
the  shelf  with  the  rest  of  the  canned  goods!  " 

"Dishonorably  discharged  from  the  service,  sir! 
And  for  what  cause?  " 

"  How  do  /  know  what  that  sour  old  pill,  Travers, 
has  framed  up  on  me  ? "  demanded  Hal  angrily. 
"  He's  the  kind  of  guy  that  would  make  murder  out  of 
killing  a  mosquito.  If  a  fellow  takes  a  single  drink,  or 
looks  at  a  skirt  —  a  girl,  I  mean  —  he's  ready  to  chop 
his  head  off!" 

"  Is,  eh  ?  "  demanded  the  old  captain  sternly.  "  So 
you  deny  having  been  drunk  and  disorderly,  having 
committed  an  assault  on  a  proctor,  having  stolen  the 
money  I  sent  you  for  your  bill,  and  having  cheated  in 
examinations  ?  Here  in  this  place  of  solemn  memories 
you  deny  all  that?  " 


'226  CURSED 

"I  —  I—"  Hal  began,  but  the  tale  of  his  mis 
demeanors  was  too  circumstantial  for  even  his  brazen 
effrontery. 

"You  deny  it,  sir?" 

"  Oh,  what's  the  use,  gramp  ?  "  Hal  angrily  flung  at 
him.  "Everything's  framed  up  against  me!  I'm 
sick  of  the  whole  thing,  anyhow.  College  is  a  frost. 
I  never  fell  for  it  at  all.  You  tried  to  wish  it  on  me, 
when  everything  I  wanted  in  the  world  was  to  go  to 
sea.  It's  all  true.  Let  it  go  at  that !  " 

"  So  then,  sir,  I  still  have  a  heavy  bill  at  college  to 
pay,  besides  the  disgrace  of  your  discharge?  " 

"Oh,  I  suppose  so!  I'm  fired.  Glad  I  am!  Glad 
I'm  done  with  the  whole  damned  business !  " 

"  Sir !     Mind  your  tongue !  " 

"  I'm  glad,  I  tell  you !  "  The  boy's  face  seemed 
burning  with  interior  fires,  suddenly  enkindled.  "  I 
quit  everything.  Give  me  a  boat,  gramp  —  anything 
that'll  sail  —  a  twenty-five  footer,  and  let  me  go!  I 
don't  ask  you  for  a  dollar.  All  I  ask  is  a  boat.  Give 
me  that,  and  I  swear  to  God  I'll  never  trouble  you 
again ! " 

"A  boat,  Hal?  What  do  you  mean,  sir?" 
Startled,  the  captain  peered  at  him. 

"  Oh,  God !  "  Hal  cried  with  sudden  passion.  "  A 
boat  —  that's  all  I  want  now !  I'm  dying  here !  I  was 
dying  in  college,  choking  to  death  by  inches !  "  He 
stood  up,  raised  his  head,  and  flung  his  arms  towards 
the  sea.  He  cried  from  his  black  heart's  depths: 

"  Let  me  go !     Oh,  let  me  go,  let  me  go !  " 

"Go?     Go  where?" 

"  Lord,  how  do  /  know  ?  All  I  want  is  to  go  some 
where,  away  from  here.  This  place  is  cursed!  I'm 
cursed  here,  and  so  are  you,  as  long  as  I'm  around !  " 

"Cursed,  Hal?"  whispered  the  captain,  tensely. 
"  What  gives  you  that  idea?  " 


HIS  WORD  OF  HONOR  227 

"  I  know  it !  This  village  bounded  on  one  side  by 
nothing  and  on  the  other  by  a  graveyard  —  I  can't 
stand  it,  and  I  won't!  Let  me  go  somewhere,  any 
where,  out  to  sea,  where  it's  calling  me  out  over  beyond 
there! "  He  gestured  mightily  at  the  lure  of  the 
horizon.  "  Let  me  go  out  past  the  Silken  Sea,  beyond 
the  Back  of  the  Wind!'" 

Panting  a  little  he  grew  silent,  with  clenched  fists, 
face  flushed  and  veins  swollen  on  neck  and  brow.  The 
old  man,  staring,  shivered  at  sound  of  the  strange 
Malay  words,  now  suddenly  spoken  again  after  half  a 
century  —  words  that  echoed  ghostlike  in  the  empty 
chambers  of  the  past.  He  peered  at  Hal,  as  at  an  ap 
parition.  His  face,  pale  under  its  weatherbeaten  tan, 
drew  into  lines  of  anguish. 

"  Let  me  go !  "  the  boy  flung  at  him  again.  "  You've 
got  to  let  me  go !  " 

"  Sit  down,  sir!  "  the  captain  made  shift  to  answer. 
"  This  is  sheer  lunacy.  What,  sir  ?  You  want  to 
give  up  your  career,  your  family,  everything?  You 
want  to  take  a  small  boat  and  go  sailing  off  into  no 
where?  Why,  sir,  Danvers  Asylum  is  the  place  for 
you.  No  more  such  talk,  sir;  not  another  word!  " 

"  I  don't  care  what  you  say,  I'm  going,  anyhow," 
Hal  defied  him.  "  I'm  not  going  to  rot  in  this  dump. 
It's  no  place  for  a  live  man,  and  you  know  it !  " 

"  You've  got  no  money  to  be  buying  boats,  Hal ! 
No,  nor  no  skipper's  papers,  either.  By  the  Judas 
priest,  sir,  but  you're  crazy !  You'll  be  talking  piracy 
next,  or  some  such  nonsense." 

"  I  don't  care  what  I  talk,"  the  boy  retorted.  "  I'm 
sick  of  this !  I'm  through !  I'm  going  to  live,  and  be 
myself,  and  be — " 

"  You'll  be  a  corpse  or  a  jail-bird,  if  that's  the 
course  you're  sailing!  "  the  captain  cut  in.  "This  is 
a  civilized  world  you're  living  in  now." 


228  CURSED 

"  Civilized !  My  God,  civilized !  That's  all  I  hear 
—  civilized !  When  you  were  my  age  were  you  always 
civilized?  Were  you  kept  on  dry  land  instead  of  go 
ing  to  sea?  Were  you  buried  in  college,  learning 
damned,  dry  rubbish?  " 

"  Dry  rubbish  ?  Your  Oriental  studies  dry  rub 
bish?" 

"  I  don't  have  to  go  to  college  for  those !  What  you 
know  of  the  East,  did  you  learn  it  out  of  books?  You 
did  not !  You  learned  it  out  of  life !  Learned  it  your 
self,  '  somewhere  east  of  Suez.'  Well,  the  temple-bells 
are  calling  me,  too;  and  yet  you  pen  me  up  in  this 
crabbed  little  New  England  village,  where  they  don't 
even  know  there  are  temple-bells !  It's  choking  me  to 
death,  I  tell  you!"  He  caught  at  his  throat,  as  if 
striving  for  air.  "  But  you  don't  understand.  You're 
old  now,  and  you've  '  put  it  all  behind  you,  long  ago 
and  far  away/  and  now  you  ask  me  to  be  civilized !  " 

"  You  mean  to  tell  me,  sir,"  the  captain  asked,  his 
voice  trembling,  "  that  you'd  abandon  me,  after  the 
way  I've  worked  for  you  ?  You'd  abandon  the  family 
and  the  home?  You'd  leave  that  good,  pure  girl, 
Laura,  just  for  a  whim  like  this?  I  appeal  to  you,  my 
boy,  in  the  name  of  the  family  — " 

"  It's  no  use,  grandfather.  You've  got  to  let  me 
go!  "  Unmoved  he  heard  the  old  man  plead: 

"  Have  you  no  love  for  me,  then?  I'm  in  my  de 
clining  years.  Without  you  what  would  be  left  ?  I've 
lived  for  you,  Hal,  and  in  the  hope  of  what  you'd  be 
some  day.  I've  hoped  you'd  marry  Laura  —  I've 
dreamed  of  grandchildren,  of  new  light  in  the  sunset 
that's  guiding  me  to  the  western  harbor.  I've  wanted 
nothing  but  to  give  the  end  of  my  life  to  you  and  for 
you,  Hal  —  nothing  but  that !  "  In  the  captain's  eyes 
gleamed  a  tear.  Hal,  noting  it,  felt  secret  scorn  and 
mockery.  "  I'm  willing  to  overlook  everything  that's 


HIS  WORD  OF  HONOR  229 

past  and  give  you  a  fresh  start.  God  knows,  I'd  gladly 
lay  down  my  life  for  you!  Because,  Hal  —  you  know 
I  love  you,  boy!  " 

Hal  glanced  appraisingly  at  the'entreating  old  figure 
on  the  bench,  at  the  white  head,  the  tear-blurred  eyes, 
the  trembling  outstretched  hands.  To  what  point,  he 
wondered  with  sinister  calculation,  could  he  turn  this 
blind  affection  to  his  own  uses?  He  kept  a  moment's 
silence,  then  said  in  a  tone  that  skilfully  simulated 
humilitude : 

"  I  suppose  I  am  a  fool  to  have  such  thoughts,  after 
all.  What  is  it  vou  want  me  to  do?  " 

"  First,  I  want  you  to  get  off  the  lee  shore.  I'll 
pay  your  debts,  Hal,  and  clear  you.  There  are  other 
colleges,  and  as  for  McLaughlin,  the  money  and  apol 
ogy  will  satisfy  him." 

"  Apology  ?     What  apology  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  demands  an  apology  from  you,  you  under 
stand  ?  " 

"  He  does,  eh  ?  Like  —  h-m !  Well,  I  suppose  I 
can  do  that."  Hal  kept  his  lying  tongue  to  the  de 
ception  now  essential  to  the  success  of  his  plans. 

"  Finely  spoken,  sir,  and  like  a  man !  "  exclaimed 
Captain  Briggs,  with  sudden  joy  and  hope.  "  I  knew 
you'd  come  to  it.  You're  sound  at  heart,  boy  —  sound 
as  old  oak.  You're  a  Briggs,  after  all !  " 

"  When  do  I  have  to  make  this  apology  ?  "  asked  Hal, 
\vith  a  searching  look.  "  Not  right  away?  " 

"  No.  I'm  going  to  pay  the  money  this  afternoon. 
In  a  day  or  two  you  can  go  aboard  the  schooner  - 

"The  schooner?  You  mean  I've  got  to  see  him 
there?" 

"  Well,  yes.  You  see,  he  insists  on  the  apology 
where  the  assault  was  done.  You're  to  give  it  in  front 
of  all  the  crew.  I  know  that'll  be  hard  sailing,  against 
stiff  winds  of  pride,  but  you'll  come  through.  You'll 


230  CURSED 

prove  yourself  a  man,  for  your  own  sake  as  well  as 
Laura's  and  mine,  won't  you  ?  " 

Hal's  fists  were  clenched  tight  as  he  answered : 

"  Yes,  of  course.  I'll  go  through."  His  eyes  were 
the  eyes  of  murder,  but  the  old  captain  saw  only  his 
boy  coming  back  to  him  again,  dutiful  and  ready  for  a 
new  start  in  life.  "  I'll  do  it,  sir.  Count  on  me !  " 

"Your  hand,  sir!" 

The  captain's  hand  met  his  grandson's  in  a  grip  that, 
on  one  side,  was  all  confidence  and  love;  on  the  other, 
abysmal  treachery  and  wickedness.  Hal  said  as  the 
grasp  loosened : 

"  I'm  asking  only  one  little  favor  of  you." 

"What's  that,  boy?" 

"  Till  this  thing  is  all  settled,  let's  not  talk  about  it 
any  more.  No  more  than  is  strictly  necessary.  Please 
don't  discuss  it  with  the  doctor,  or  with  Ezra !  " 

"  Ezra  knows  nothing.  The  doctor  may  talk  a  little, 
but  I'll  discourage  it.  From  now  on,  Hal,  there'll  be 
very  little  said." 

"If  you  see  Laura — " 

"  Not  a  word  to  her.  And  from  now  on,  Hal, 
you're  going  to  make  amends  for  what  you've  done, 
and  live  it  down,  and  prove  yourself  a  man?  " 

"Why,  sure!" 

"  You  mean  that,  boy  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  mean  it!  What  shall  I  swear  it  on? 
The  blue-throated  Mahadeo  of  the  Hindus,  or  Vishnu 
the  Destroyer,  or  Ratna  Mutnu  Manikam,  the  Malay 
Great  God  of  Death?  All  three,  if  you  say  so !  " 

The  captain  shivered  again,  as  if  the  cold  breath  of 
ghosts  from  far,  terrible  graves  had  suddenly  blown 
upon  him. 

"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  talk  that  way,  Hal,"  said  he 
tremulously.  "  Just  give  me  your  word  of  honor. 
Will  you?" 


HIS  WORD  OF  HONOR  231 

"Yes,  sir!" 

"  As  a  gentleman?  " 

"  As  a  '  gentleman  —  unafraid ! ' 

Captain  Briggs  got  up  from  the  bench  among  the 
tombs  and  put  his  tired  old  arm  through  the  strong, 
vigorous  one  of  Hal,  with  a  patriarchal  affection  of 
great  nobility. 

"Come,  boy!"  said  he,  happy  with  new  hopes. 
"  Come,  we  must  be  getting  under  way  for  Snug  Haven 
• —  for  the  little  home  you're  going  to  be  so  worthy  of 
and  make  so  happy.  The  home  where,  some  of  these 
fine  days,  I  know  you'll  bring  Laura  to  comfort  and 
rejoice  me.  Come,  boy,  now  let's  be  going  down  the 
hill !  " 

Together  he  and  Hal  made  their  way  toward  the 
gate  in  the  old  stone  wall,  warm  in  the  sunlight  of 
June. 

A  smile  was  on  the  captain's  time-worn  face,  a  smile 
of  joy  and  peace.  Hal  was  smiling,  too,  but  with 
mockery  and  craft  and  scorn. 

"  That's  the  time  I  handed  it  out  right  and  stalled 
him  proper !  "  he  was  thinking  as  they  started  down 
the  winding  path  amid  the  sumacs  and  wild  roses. 
"  He's  easy,  gramp  is  —  a  cinch !  Getting  moldy  in 
the  attic.  He'll  fall  for  anything.  Now,  if  Laura'd 
only  been  as  easy!  If  she  had — J 

Heavily,  but  still  smiling,  the  old  man  leaned  upon 
Hal's  arm,  finding  comfort  in  the  strength  of  the  lusty 
young  scion  of  the  family  which,  save  for  this  one 
hope,  must  perish. 

"  God  has  been  very  good  to  me,  after  all ! "  the 
captain  thought  as  they  went  down  the  hill.  "  I  feared 
God  was  going  to  punish  me;  but,  after  all,  He  has 
been  kind !  '  My  cup  runneth  over  —  He  leadeth  me 
beside  the  still  waters,'  at  last,  after  so  many  stormy 
seas!  Sunset  of  life  is  bringing  peace  —  and  some- 


232  CURSED 

where  my  Pilot's  waiting  to  tell  me  I  have  paid  my 
debt  and  that  I'm  entering  port  with  a  clean  log!  " 

And  Hal?     What  was  Hal  thinking  now? 

"  Cinch  is  no  name  for  it!  The  old  man's  called  off 
all  rough-house  for  a  day  or  two.  One  day's  enough. 
Just  twenty-four  hours.  That's  all  —  that's  all  I 
need!" 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE  SAFE 

Though  a  freshening  east  wind  was  now  beginning 
to  add  a  raw  salt  tang  to  the  air,  troubled  by  a  louder 
suspiration  of  surf,  and  though  the  fluttering  of  the 
poplar-leaves,  which  now  had  begun  to  show  their 
silvery  undersides,  predicted  rain,  all  was  bright  sun 
shine  in  the  old  man's  heart. 

The  drifting  clouds  in  no  wise  lessened  the  light 
for  Captain  Briggs.  Nodding  flower  and  piping  bird, 
grumbling  bee  and  brisk,  varnished  cricket  in  the  path 
all  bore  him  messages  of  cheer.  His  blue  eyes  mirrored 
joy.  For,  after  all  that  he  had  suffered  and  feared, 
lo!  here  was  Hal  come  back  to  him  again,  repentant, 
dutiful  and  kind. 

"  God  is  being  very  good  to  me  after  all,"  the  old 
captain  kept  thinking.  "  '  His  mercy  endureth  for 
ever,  and  He  is  very,  very  good ! ' 

Dr.  Filhiol,  sitting  at  the  window  of  his  room,  up 
stairs,  watched  the  captain  and  Hal  with  narrowed  eyes 
that  harbored  suspicion.  His  lips  drew  tight,  but  he 
uttered  no  word.  Hal,  glancing  up,  met  his  look  with 
instinctive  defiance.  Boldness  and  challenge  leaped 
into  his  eyes.  Filhiol  understood  his  threat: 

"  Keep  yourself  out  of  this  or  take  all  conse 
quences  !  " 

And  again  the  thought  came  to  the  doctor : 

"  What  wouldn't  I  give  to  have  you  for  a  patient  of 
mine?  Just  for  one  hour!  " 

The  captain  and  Hal  disappeared  'round  the  ell,  in 
233 


234  CURSED 

which  Filhiol  had  his  room ;  but  even  after  he  had  lost 
them  to  sight,  he  sensed  the  fatuous  self-deception  of 
the  old  man  and  the  cruel  baseness  of  the  young  one. 
Hal's  overstrained  effort  at  good  fellowship  grated  on 
the  doctor's  nerves  with  a  note  as  false  as  his  forced 
smile.  He  longed  to  warn  the  captain  —  and  yet ! 
How  could  he  make  Briggs  credit  his  suspicions  ?  Im 
possible,  he  realized. 

"  Poor  captain !  "  he  murmured.  "  Poor  old  cap 
tain  !  "  And  so  he  sat  there,  troubled  and  very  sad. 

He  heard  their  feet  on  the  porch,  then  heard  Hal 
coming  up-stairs,  alone.  Along  the  passageway  went 
Hal,  muttering  something  unintelligible.  Presently  he 
returned  down-stairs  again  and  went  into  the  yard. 
Filhiol  swung  his  blinds  shut.  Much  as  he  hated  to 
play  the  spy,  instinct  told  he  must. 

Hal  now  had  his  pipe,  and  carried  books  and  paper. 
tWith  these  he  sat  down  on  the  rustic  seat  that  encircled 
one  of  the  captain's  big  elms  —  a  seat  before  which  a 
table  had  been  built,  for  al  fresco  meals,  or  study.  He 
opened  one  of  the  books  and  began  writing  busily, 
while  smoke  curled  on  the  breeze  now  growing  damp 
and  raw.  Even  the  doctor  could  not  but  admit  Hal 
made  an  attractive  figure  in  his  white  flannels. 

"  Pure  camouflage,  that  study  is,"  pondered  the  doc 
tor.  "  That  smile  augurs  no  good."  Down-stairs  he 
heard  Briggs  moving  about,  and  pity  welled  again. 
"  This  is  bad,  bad.  There's  something  in  the  wind,  / 
know.  Tss-tss-tss !  What  a  wicked,  cruel  shame !  " 

Down  in  the  cabin,  Captain  Briggs's  appearance  quite 
belied  the  doctor's  pity.  Every  line  of  his  venerable 
face  showed  deep  content.  In  his  eyes  lay  beatitude. 

"Thank  God,  the  boy's  true-blue,  after  all!"  he 
murmured.  "  Just  a  little  wild,  perhaps,  but  he's  a 
Briggs  —  he's  sound  metal  at  the  core.  Thank  God 
for  that!" 


THE  SAFE  23$ 

He  opened  the  top  drawer  of  his  desk,  took  out  a 
little  slip  of  paper  that  helped  refresh  his  memory,  and 
approached  the  safe.  Right,  left,  he  turned  the  knob, 
as  the  combination  on  the  paper  bade  him;  then  he 
swung  open  the  doors,  and  pulled  out  a  little  drawer. 

"  Cap'n  Briggs,  sir!  " 

At  sound  of  Ezra's  voice  in  the  doorway,  he  started 
almost  guiltily. 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"  Anythin'  you're  wantin'  down  to  Dudley's  store, 
sir?" 

"  No,  Ezra."  The  captain's  answer  seemed  uneasy. 
Under  the  sharp  boring  of  Ezra's  steely  eyes,  he 
quailed.  "  No,  there's  nothing." 

"  All  right,  cap'n !  "  The  old  cook  remained  a  mo 
ment,  observing.  Then  with  the  familiarity  of  long 
years,  he  queried : 

"  Takin'  money  again,  be  you?  Whistlin'  whales, 
cap'n,  that  won't  do !  " 

"  Ezra!     What  d'you  mean,  sir!  " 

"  You  know,  cap'n,  we're  gittin'  mighty  nigh  the 
bottom  o'  the  locker." 

"  You're  sailing  a  bit  wide,  Ezra !  " 

"  Mebbe,  sir."  The  honest  old  fellow's  voice  ex 
pressed  deep  anxiety.  "  But  you  an'  me  is  cap'n  an' 
mate  o'  this  here  clipper,  an'  money's  money." 

The  voices  drifting  out  the  open  window  brought 
Hal's  head  up,  listening.  The  doctor,  peering  through 
the  blinds,  saw  him  hesitate  a  moment,  peer  'round, 
then  cross  the  lawn  to  where,  screened  by  the  thick 
clump  of  lilac-bushes,  he  could  peek  into  the  room. 

"  Money's  money,  cap'n,"  repeated  Ezra.  "  We 
hadn't  oughta  let  it  go  too  fast." 

"  There's  lots  of  better  things  in  this  world  than 
money,  Ezra,"  said  the  captain,  strangely  ill  at  ease. 

"Mebbe,  sir,  but  it  takes  money  to  buy  'em,",  the 


236  CURSED 

cook  retorted.  "  I  ain't  a  two-dollar-worry  mart  fer 
a  one-dollar  loss,  but  still  I  know  a  dollar's  a  good 
little  friend." 

"  Happiness  is  better,"  affirmed  the  captain. 
"  What  I'm  going  to  spend  this  money  for  now  will 
bring  me  happiness.  Better  than  all  the  money  in  the 
world,  is  being  contented  with  your  lot." 

"  Yes,  sir,  if  it's  a  lot  of  money,  or  a  corner  lot  in  a 
live  town.  /  think  there's  six  things  to  make  a  man 
happy.  One  is  a  good  cook  an'  the  other  five  is  cash. 
However,  fur  be  it  from  me  to  argy  with  you.  I  got 
to  clear  fer  Dudley's,  or  there  wun't  be  no  dinner." 

Ezra  withdrew. 

"  It's  that  damn  McLaughlin,  I  betcha,"  he  pon 
dered.  "  I  got  an  intuition  the  cap'n's  got  to  pay  him 
heavy.  Intuition's  a  guess,  when  it  comes  out  right; 
an'  I'll  bet  a  schooner  to  a  saucepan  I'm  right  this 
time.  If  I  was  half  the  man  I  used  to  be,  it  wouldn't 
be  money  McLaughlin'd  be  gittin',  but  this!  "  Menac 
ingly,  he  doubled  his  fist. 

Captain  Briggs  took  from  the  safe  a  packet  of  bills 
and  counted  off  four  hundred  dollars.  This  money  he 
put  into  his  wallet.  Hal  watched  every  move;  while 
above,  from  behind  the  blinds,  Dr.  Filhiol  observed 
him  with  profound  attention. 

"  We  are  getting  a  bit  low  in  the  treasury,"  admitted 
the  captain,  inspecting  the  remainder  of  the  cash. 
"  Only  a  matter  of  seven  hundred  and  fifty  left,  to 
stand  us  till  January.  A  bit  low,  but  we'll  manage 
some  way  or  other.  Sail  close  to  the  wind,  and  make 
it.  After  all,  what's  a  little  money  when  the  boy's 
whole  life  is  at  stake?  " 

He  put  the  remaining  bills  back  and  closed  the  safe. 
To  the  desk  he  walked,  dropped  the  combination  into 
it  and  shut  it,  tight.  Silently  Hal  slid  back  to  his  seat 
under  the  elm,  and  once  more  set  himself  to  writing. 


THE  SAFE  237 

Filhiol  peered  down  at  him  with  animosity. 

"  A  nice  little  treatment  of  strychnine  or  curare 
might  make  a  proper  man  of  you,  you  brute,"  he  mut 
tered,  "  but,  by  the  living  Lord,  I  don't  think  anything 
else  could ! " 


THE  READING   OF   THE   CURSE 

The  kitchen  door  slammed.  Ezra,  turning  the  cor 
ner  of  the  house,  paused  to  gaze  with  admiration  at 
Hal. 

"  Hello,  Master  Hal,  sir,"  said  he.  "  Always  study- 
in',  ain't  you  ?  "  Voice  and  expression  alike  showed 
intense  pride.  Above,  Filhiol  bent  an  ear  of  keenest 
attention.  "  Ain't  many  young  fellers  in  this  town 
would  be  workin'  over  books,  when  there's  petticoats  in 
sight." 

"You  don't  approve  of  the  girls,  eh?"  asked  Hal 
with  a  smile.  A  smile  of  the  lips  alone,  not  of  the 
eyes. 

"  No,  sir,  I  don't,"  answered  Ezra  with  resentment 
—  for  once  upon  a  time  a  woman  had  misused  him, 
and  the  wound  had  never  healed.  "  They  ain't  what  I 
call  good  reliable  craft,  sir.  Contrary  at  the  wheel,  an' 
their  rig  costs  more  'n  what  their  hull's  wu'th.  No, 
sir,  I  ain't  overly  fond  of  'em." 

"  Your  judgment's  not  valid,"  said  Hal.  He  seemed 
peculiarly  expansive,  as  if  for  some  reason  of  his  own 
he  wanted  to  win  Ezra  to  still  greater  affection. 
'•'  What  do  you  know  about  women,  an  old  bach  like 
you?" 

"  I  know !  "  affirmed  Ezra,  coming  over  the  lawn  to 
the  table.  "  Men  are  like  nails  —  when  they're  drove 
crooked,  they're  usually  drove  so  by  a  woman.  "Wo 
men  can  make  a  fool  of  almost  any  man,  ef  nature 
don't  git  a  start  on  'em." 

238 


THE  READING  OF  THE  CURSE       239 

Hal  laughed.  A  certain  malevolent  content  seemed 
radiating  from  him.  Lazily  he  leaned  back,  and  drew 
at  his  pipe.  "  Right  or  wrong,  you've  certainly  got 
definite  opinions.  You  know  your  own  mind.  You 
believe  in  a  man  knowing  himself,  don't  you?  " 

"  Ef  some  men  knowed  themselves  they'd  be 
ashamed  o'  the  acquaintance,"  opined  Ezra.  "  An* 
most  women  would.  No,  sir,  I  don't  take  no  stock  in 
'em.  There  ain't  nothin'  certain  about  love  but  the 
uncertainty.  Women  ain't  satisfied  with  the  milk  o' 
human  kindness.  They  want  all  the  cream.  What 
they  expect  is  a  sealskin  livin'  on  a  mushrat  salary. 
Love's  a  kind  of  paralysis  —  kind  of  a  stroke,  like. 
Sometimes  it's  only  on  one  side  an'  there's  hope.  But 
ef  it  gits  on  both  sides,  it's  hopeless." 

"  Love  makes  the  world  go  'round,  Ezra !  " 

"  Like  Tophet !  It  only  makes  folks'  heads  spin, 
an'  they  think  the  world's  goin'  'round,  that's  all.  No 
body  knows  the  value  of  a  gold-mine  or  a  woman,  but 
millions  o'  men  has  went  busted,  tryin'  to  find  out! 
Not  fer  me,  this  here  lovin',  sir,"  Ezra  continued  with 
eloquence.  "  I  never  yet  see  a  matrimonial  match 
struck  but  what  somebody  got  burned.  Marriage  is 
the  end  o'  trouble,  as  the  feller  says  —  but  which 
end  ?  I  ask  you !  " 

"  You  needn't  ask  me,  Ezra ;  I'm  no  authority  on 
women.  There's  a  nice  little  proverb  in  this  book, 
though,  that  you  ought  to  know." 

"What's  that,  Master  Hal  ?" 

"Here,  I'll  find  it  for  you."  Hal  turned  a  few- 
pages,  paused,  and  read :  "  '  Bounga  sedap  dipakey, 
layou  dibonang.' '' 

"  Sufferin'  snails!  What  is  that  stuff,  anyhow? 
Heathen  Chinee?" 

"That's  Malay,  Ezra,"  Hal  condescended.  The 
doctor,  listening,  felt  a  strange  little  shiver,  as  of  some 


240  CURSED 

reminiscent  fear  from  the  vague  long-ago.  Those 
words,  last  heard  at  Batu  Kawan,  fifty  years  before, 
now  of  a  sudden  rose  to  him  like  specters  of  great  evil. 
His  attention  strained  itself  as  Hal  went  on: 

"  That's  a  favorite  Malay  proverb,  and  it  means : 
'  While  the  flower  is  pleasing  to  man,  he  wears  it. 
When  it  fades,  he  throws  it  away.' ' 

"  Meanin'  a  woman,  o'  course?  Uhuh!  /  see. 
Well,  them  heathens  has  it  pretty  doggone  nigh  correct, 
at  that,  ain't  they  ?  So  that  there  is  Malay,  is  it  ?  All 
them  twisty-wisty  whirligigs?  An'  you  can  read  it 
same  as  if  it  was  a  real  language?  " 

"  It  is  a  real  language,  Ezra,  and  a  very  beautiful 
one.  I  love  it.  You  don't  know  how  much !  "  A 
tone  of  real  sincerity  crept  into  the  false  camaraderie 
of  Hal's  voice.  Filhiol  shook  his  head.  Vague,  in 
comprehensible  influences  seemed  reaching  out  from 
the  vapors  of  the  Orient,  fingering  their  way  into  the 
very  heart  of  this  trim  New  England  garden,  in  this 
year  of  grace,  1918.  The  doctor  suddenly  felt  cold. 
He  crouched  a  little  closer  toward  the  blinds. 

"  Holy  halibut,  Master  Hal !  "  exclaimed  Ezra  in  an 
awed  tone,  peering  at  the  book.  "  What  a  head  you 
got  on  you,  sir!  Fuller  o'  brains  than  an  old  Bed 
ford  whaler  is  o'  rats !  " 

"  You  flatter  me,  Ezra.     Think  so,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  know  so !  Ef  I'd  had  your  peak  I  wouldn't  of 
walloped  pots  in  a  galley  all  my  natural.  But  I  wan't 
pervided  good.  My  mind's  like  a  pint  o'  rum  in  a 
hogshead  —  kind  of  broad,  but  not  very  deep.  It's 
sort  of  a  phonograph  mind  —  makes  me  talk  a  lot,  but 
don't  make  me  say  nothin'  original.  So  that's  Malay, 
is  it?  Well,  it's  too  numerous  fer  me.  There's  only 
one  kind  o'  Malay  I  know  about,  an'  that's  my  hens. 
They  may  lay,  an'  then  again  they  may  not.  That's 


THE  READING  OF  THE  CURSE       24* 

grammatical.  But  this  here  wiggly  printin' —  no,  no, 
it  don't  look  reasonable.  My  eye,  what  a  head !  Read 
some  more,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  if  you  like  it,"  said  Hal,  strangely  oblig 
ing.  "  Here's  something  I've  been  translating,  in  the 
line  of  cursing.  They're  great  people  to  curse  you, 
the  Malays  are,  if  you  cross  them.  Their  whole  lives 
are  full  of  vengeance  —  that's  what  makes  them  so  in 
teresting.  Nothing  weak,  forgiving  or  mushy  about 
them!"  He  picked  up  the  paper  he  had  been  writing 
on,  and  cast  his  eyes  over  it,  while  Ezra  looked  down 
at  him  with  fondly  indulgent  pride.  "  Here  is  part 
of  the  black  curse  of  Vishnu." 

"Who's  he?" 

"  One  of  their  gods.  The  most  avenging  one  of 
the  lot,"  explained  Hal.  The  doctor,  crouching  be 
hind  the  blinds,  shivered. 

"  Gods,  eh  ?  What's  this  Vishnu  feller  like  ?  "  asked 
Ezra,  with  a  touch  of  uneasiness.  "  Horns  an'  a 
tail?" 

"  No.  He's  got  several  forms,  but  the  one  they 
seem  most  afraid  of  is  a  kind  of  great,  blind  face  up  in 
the  sky.  A  face  that  —  even  though  it's  blind  —  can 
watch  a  guilty  man  all  his  life,  wherever  he  goes,  and 
ruin  him,  crucify  him,  bring  him  to  destruction,  and 
laugh  at  him  as  he's  dying." 

"  Brrr! "  said  Ezra.  He  seemed  to  feel  something 
of  the  same  cold  that  had  struck  to  the  doctor's  heart 
—  a  greater  cold  than  could  be  accounted  for  by  the 
veiling  of  the  sun  behind  the  clouds  now  driving  in 
from  the  sea,  or  by  the  kelp-rank  mists  gathering  along 
the  shore.  "  You  make  me  feel  all  creepylike.  You're 
wastin'  your  time  on  such  stuff,  Master  Hal,  same  as  a 
man  is  when  he's  squeezing  a  bad  lemon  or  an  old  maid. 
None  o'  that  cursin'  stuff  fer  me !  " 


242  CURSED 

"  Yes,  yes,  you've  got  to  listen  to  it !  "  insisted  Hal 
maliciously.  Ezra's  trepidation  afforded  him  great 
enjoyment.  "  Here's  the  way  it  goes : 

"  '  The  curse  of  Vishnu,  the  great  black  curse,  can  never 
end  unsatisfied  when  it  has  once  been  laid  upon  a  human 
head.  Beyond  the  land  it  carries,  and  beyond  the  sea,  be 
yond  the  farthest  sea  unsailed.  Beyond  the  day,  the  month, 
the  year,  it  carries;  and  even  though  the  accursed  one  flee 
forever,  in  some  far  place  and  on  some  far  day  it  will  fall 
on  him  or  his  ! ' ' 

"  Great  grampus ! "  cried  the  old  man,  retreating  a 
little  with  wide  eyes.  "  That's  some  cussin',  all 
right!" 

The  doctor  sensed  an  insistent  fear  that  would  not 
be  denied.  What  if  old  Captain  Briggs  should  over 
hear  this  colloquy?  What  if  Ezra  should  repeat  to 
him  these  words  that,  now  arising  from  the  past, 
echoed  with  ominous  purport?  At  realization  of  pos 
sible  consequences,  Filhiol's  heart  contracted  painfully. 

"  Damn  you,  Hal !  "  thought  he,  peering  out  through 
the  blinds.  "  Damn  you  and  your  Malay  books.  If 
any  harm  comes  to  the  captain,  through  you,  look 
out!" 

"  Some  awful  cussin',"  Ezra  repeated.  "  I 
wouldn't  want  to  have  no  sech  cuss  as  that  rove  onta 
me!  You  b'lieve  that  stuff,  do  ye?  " 

"  Who  am  I  to  disprove  it?  " 

"  Ain't  there  no  way  to  kedge  off,  ef  you're  grounded 
on  a  cuss  like  that  ?  " 

"  Only  one,  Ezra,  according  to  this  book." 

"What  way's  that?" 

"  Well,"  and  Hal  once  more  glanced  at  the  paper, 
"  well,  this  is  what  the  book  says : 

" '  The  curse  must  be  fulfilled,  to  the  last  breath,  for  by 
Shiva  and  the  Trimurthi,  what  is  written  is  written.  But 


THE  READING  OF  THE  CURSE       243 

if  he  through  whom  the  curse  descendeth  on  another  is 
stricken  to  horror  and  to  death,  then  the  Almighty  Vishnu, 
merciful,  closes  that  page.  And  he  who  through  another's 
sin  was  cursed,  is  cleansed.  Thus  may  the  curse  be  ful 
filled.  But  always  one  of  two  must  die.  Tuan  Allah  poonia 
krajah !  It  is  the  work  of  the  Almighty  One !  One  of  two 
must  die !  " 

"Gosh!"  ejaculated  Ezra.  "I  reckon  that'll  be 
about  enough  fer  me,  Master  Hal.  Awful,  ain't  it?" 

"  Don't  like  Malay,  after  all  ?  "  laughed  Hal. 

"  Can't  say  as  I'm  pinin'  fer  it.  But  you  got  some 
head  on  you,  to  read  it  off  like  that.  I  s'pose  it's  all 
right  in  its  way,  but  I  don't  relish  it  overly,  as  the 
feller  said  when  he  spilled  sugar  on  his  oysters. 
Well,"  and  he  glanced  at  the  lowering  clouds  and  the 
indrifting  sea-fog  that  with  the  characteristic  sudden 
ness  of  the  north  shore  had  already  begun  to  throw  its 
chilly  blanket  over  the  world,  "  well,  this  ain't  gittin' 
to  Dudley's  store,  is  it?  Lord,  sir,  what  a  head  you 
got  on  you !  " 

With  admiring  ejaculations  the  old  man  started 
down  the  path  once  more.  The  doctor,  filled  with 
stern  thoughts,  remained  watching  Hal,  who  had  now 
gone  back  to  his  writing.  , 

"  What  a  fatality !  "  pondered  the  doctor,  unable  to 
suppress  a  certain  superstitious  dread.  Not  all  his 
scientific  training  could  quite  overcome  the  deep-rooted 
superstition  that  lies  in  the  bottom  of  every  human 
heart.  "  The  black  curse  of  Vishnu  again,  with  this 
new  feature : '  One  of  two  must  die! '  What  the  devil 
does  all  this  mean  now  ?  " 

A  crawling  sensation  manifested  itself  along  his 
spine.  Silent  shapes  seemed  standing  behind  him  in 
the  corners  of  the  room  darkened  by  the  closing  of  the 
blinds.  Trained  thinker  though  he  was,  he  could  not 
shake  off  this  feeling,  but  remained  crouching  at  the 


244  CURSED 

window,  a  prey  to  inexplicable  fear.  The  words  Hal 
had  spoken,  echoing  along  dim  corridors  of  the  past, 
still  seemed  vibrating  in  his  heart  with  unaccustomed 
pain. 

"  Nonsense ! "  he  growled  at  last.  "  It's  all  non 
sense  —  nothing  but  a  sheer  coincidence !  "  He  tried 
to  put  the  words  away,  but  still  they  sounded  in  his 
ears:  "  One  of  two  must  die!  Always  one  of  two 
must  die! " 

Another  thought,  piercing  him,  brought  him  up 
standing  with  clenched  fists. 

"If  the  captain  ever  gets  hold  of  that  idea,  what 
then  ?  If  he  ever  does  —  what  then?  " 

Brooding  he  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  limping 
painfully,  for  without  his  cane  he  could  hardly  walk 
even  a  few  steps.  And  almost  at  once  his  fear  curdled 
into  hate  against  the  sleek,  white-flanneled  fellow,  sit 
ting  there  under  the  elm,  calmly  translating  words  that 
might  mean  agony  and  death  to  the  old  grandsire. 

Filhiol's  mind  became  confused.  He  knew  not  what 
to  think,  nor  yet  which  way  to  turn.  What  events  im 
pended?  He  recalled  the  way  Hal  had  peered  stealth 
ily  into  the  cabin,  and  how  he  had  then  slid  back  to  his 
seat  under  the  elm.  Was  Hal  plotting  some  new 
infamy  ?  What  could  be  done  to  warn  the  captain,  to 
make  that  blindly  loyal  heart  accept  the  truth  and  act 
upon  it? 

Tentacles  of  some  terrible  thing  seemed  enmeshing 
both  Filhiol  and  the  old  captain  —  some  catastrophe, 
looming  black,  impossible  to  thrust  aside.  But  it  was 
not  of  himself  that  Filhiol  was  thinking.  Only  the 
image  of  the  captain,  trusting,  confident,  arose  before 
him. 

Filhiol  set  his  teeth  in  a  grimace  of  hate  against  the 
figure  at  work  out  there  under  the  big  elm. 

"  I've  probably  done  my  share  of  evil  in  this  world," 


THE  READING  OF  THE  CURSE      245 

thought  he,  "  but  I  could  wipe  it  all  out  with  one  su 
premely  good  action.  If  I  could  put  an  end  to  you — " 

All  unconscious,  Hal  continued  at  his  work.  As  he 
wrote,  he  smiled  a  little.  The  smile  was  sinister  and 
hard. 

What  thoughts  did  it  reflect? 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

ROBBERY 

Dinner  brought  the  four  men  together :  Filhiol  glum 
and  dour,  Hal  in  his  most  charming  mood,  the  cap 
tain  expansive  with  new-found  happiness,  and  old  Ezra 
bubbling  with  aphorisms. 

Silent  and  brooding,  Filhiol  turned  the  situation  in 
his  mind,  asking  himself  a  hundred  times  what  he 
could  do  to  avert  catastrophe  impending. 

Decision,  after  dinner,  crystallized  into  action. 
First  of  all  the  doctor  interviewed  Ezra  in  the  galley, 
and  from  him  extracted  a  binding  promise  to  make  no 
mention  before  Captain  Briggs,  of  anything  concerning 
Malay  life,  or  books,  or  curses,  or  whatever. 

"  I  can't  explain  now,  Ezra,"  said  he,  "  but  it's 
most  important.  As  a  physician,  I  prohibit  your  speak 
ing  of  these  matters  here.  You  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  dunno's  I'm  over  an'  above  keen  to 
obey  you,  sir,  but  ef  it's  fer  the  cap'n's  good,  that's 
enough  fer  me." 

"  It  is  for  the  captain's  good,  decidedly!  "  affirmed 
the  doctor,  and  left  old  Ezra  to  think  it  over.  One 
source  of  danger,  he  now  felt  confident,  had  been 
dammed  up. 

Ezra  was  still  thinking  it  over  when  the  captain  told 
him  to  harness  Sea  Lawyer  for  a  drive  to  Endi- 
cutt.  In  spite  of  the  fine,  drifting  rain  that  had  set  in, 
Briggs  was  determined  to  go,  for  until  McLaughlin's 
claim  and  the  college  bill  had  been  settled,  the  money 
he  had  taken  from  the  safe  for  that  purpose  was  burn- 

246 


ROBBERY  247 

ing  in  his  pocket.  He  insisted  on  going  quite  alone, 
despite  protests  from  Filhiol  and  Ezra.  Even  though 
all  the  sunlight  had  died  from  the  darkening  sky,  it 
seemed  still  shining  in  the  old  man's  eyes  as  he  drove 
off  to  pay  the  hard-saved  money  that  now  —  so  he  be 
lieved  —  would  put  Hal  on  the  upward  road  once 
more. 

"  Hal,"  said  the  doctor,  when  the  old  captain  had 
slowly  jogged  out  of  sight,  "  I've  got  a  few  words  to 
say  to  you,  out  on  the  porch.  Give  me  five  minutes, 
please?  " 

"  Why,  surest  thing  you  know !  Just  let  me  get  my 
pipe,  and  I'll  be  with  you." 

He  seemed  all  engaging  candor  —  just  a  big,  power 
ful  fellow,  open  of  face  and  manner,  good-humored 
and  without  guile.  As  he  rejoined  the  doctor,  Fil 
hiol  wondered  whether,  after  all,  his  analysis  might 
not  be  wrong.  But  no,  no.  Something  at  the  back 
of  Hal's  blue-eyed  look,  something  arrogant  with 
power,  something  untamed,  atavistic,  looked  out 
through  even  the  most  direct  glance.  Filhiol  knew 
that  he  was  dealing  with  no  ordinary  force.  And, 
carefully  choosing  his  words,  he  said: 

"  Listen,  young  man.  I'm  going  to  ask  a  favor  of 
you." 

"  My  grandfather's  guest  has  only  to  ask,  and  it's 
done,"  smiled  Hal,  as  he  settled  himself  in  one  of  the 
rockers,  and  hoisted  his  white-shod  feet  to  the  porch- 
rail. 

"  You  know,  Hal,"  the  doctor  commenced,  "  your 
grandfather  has  been  greatly  distressed  about  your  con 
duct." 

"  Well,  and  what  then?  "  asked  Hal,  his  eyes  cloud 
ing. 

"  He  has  a  strange  idea  that  some  of  the  misdeeds 
of  his  youth,  long  since  atoned  for,  are  being  visited 


248  CURSED 

upon  you,  and  that  he's  responsible  for  —  h-m  —  cer 
tain  irregularities  of  your  conduct." 

"Yes?" 

"  In  short,  he  half  believes  a  curse  is  resting  on  you, 
because  of  him.  It  would  be  most  deplorable  to  let 
that  belief  receive  corroboration  from  any  source,  as 
for  example,  from  any  of  your  Oriental  studies." 

Hal  shot  a  keen  glance  at  the  old  man.  This  was 
indeed  getting  under  the  hide,  with  a  vengeance.  The 
glance  showed  fear,  too.  Had  Filhiol,  then,  been  spy 
ing  on  him  ?  Had  he,  by  any  chance,  seen  him  peeking 
in  at  the  window,  through  the  lilac-bushes?  Hal's 
evil  temper  began  to  stir,  and  with  it  a  very  lively  ap 
prehension. 

"  What  are  you  driving  at,  anyhow  ?  "  demanded  he, 
sullenly. 

"  I  want  you  to  keep  your  Oriental  stuff  completely 
in  the  background  for  a  while.  Not  to  talk  with  him 
about  it,  and  especially  to  avoid  all  those  fantastic 
curses." 

"Oh,  is  that  all?"  asked  Hal,  relieved.  "Well, 
that's  easy." 

The  doctor  sighed  with  relief. 

"  That  makes  me  feel  a  bit  better,"  said  he.  "  We've 
got  to  do  our  best  to  protect  the  captain  against  him 
self.  I  know  you'll  cooperate  with  me  to  keep  him  out 
of  any  possible  trouble." 

"  Surest  thing  you  know,  doctor !  "  exclaimed  Hal. 
"  I've  been  a  fool  and  worse,  I  know,  but  that's  all 
over.  I've  taken  a  fresh  start  that  will  help  me  travel 
far.  You'll  see." 

He  put  out  his  hand. 

"  Let's  shake  on  it,"  he  smiled  winningly. 

A  moment  their  eyes  met.     Then  Filhiol  said : 

"  I'm  sorry  if  I've  misjudged  you.  Let's  just  for 
get  it.  You  don't  know  how  much  relieved  I  feel." 


ROBBERY  249 

"  I  feel  better,  too,"  said  Hal.  "  Things  are  going 
to  take  a  decidedly  new  turn." 

"  It's  fine  to  hear  you  say  that !  "  exclaimed  the  doc 
tor,  almost  convinced  that  at  last  he  had  struck  a 
human  stratum  in  the  boy's  heart.  "  I  can  take  my 
after-dinner  nap  with  a  great  deal  easier  mind  now. 
Good-by." 

He  limped  into  the  house,  not  perhaps  fully  confi 
dent  of  Hal,  but  at  any  rate  more  inclined  to  believe 
him  amenable  to  reason.  Hal,  peering  after  him,  whis 
pered  a  terrific  blasphemy  under  his  breath. 

"  You  damned  buttinsky !  "  he  growled,  black  with 
passion.  "  There's  something  coming  to  you,  too. 
Something  you'll  get,  by  God,  or  I'm  no  man !  " 

He  got  up,  and  —  silently  in  his  rubber-soled  shoes 
—  walked  around  the  porch  to  the  end  of  it,  then 
stepped  down  into  the  grass  and  crept  along  by  the 
house.  Under  the  doctor's  window  he  stood,  listening 
acutely.  Just  what  the  doctor  was  doing  he  must  by 
all  mtP.ns  know.  Ezra  was  safe  enough.  From  the 
k't'jhT.  Drifted  song : 

"  Rolling  Rio, 

To  my  rolling  Rio  Grande ! 
Hooray,  you  rolling  Rio ! 
So  fare  ye  well,  my  bonny  young  girls, 
For  I'm  bound  to  the  Rio  Grande !  " 

Hal  nodded  as  he  heard  the  springs  of  the  doctor's 
bed  creak,  and  knew  the  old  man  had  really  laid  down 
for  his  mid-afternoon  nap. 

"  It's  working  fine,"  said  he.  "  Cramp's  gone, 
Ezra's  good  for  half  an  hour  on  '  Rio  Grande,'  and  the 
doc's  turned  in.  Looks  like  a  curse  was  sticking  to 
me,  doesn't  it?  Not  much!  Nothing  like  that  can 
stick  to  me!" 

At  his   feet  two  or  three  ants  were  busy  with  a 


250  CURSED 

grasshopper's  leg.  Hal  smeared  them  out  with  a  dab 
of  his  sole. 

"  That's  the  way  to  do  with  people  that  get  in  your 
way,"  he  muttered.  "  Just  like  that !  " 

He  slouched  back  to  the  porch.  The  resemblance 
to  what  Captain  Briggs  had  been  in  the  old  days  seemed 
wonderfully  striking  at  just  this  moment.  Same  hang 
of  heavy  shoulders,  same  set  of  jaw;  scowl  quite  a 
simulacrum  of  the  other,  and  even  the  dark  glowering 
of  the  eyes  almost  what  once  had  been. 

As  Hal  Briggs  lithely  stepped  on  to  the  porch  again 
he  formed  how  wonderful  an  image  of  that  other  man 
who,  half  a  century  ago,  had  swung  the  poisoned  kris 
upon  the  decks  of  the  Silver  Fleece,  and,  smeared  with 
blood,  had  hewn  his  way  against  all  opposition  to  his 
will! 

"Afraid  of  an  old  Malay  curse!"  sneered  Hal. 
"  Poor,  piffling  fool !  Why,  Filhiol's  loose  in  the 
dome,  and  grandpop's  no  better.  They're  a  couple  of 
children  —  ought  to  be  shoved  into  the  nursery.  And 
they  think  they're  going  to  dictate  to  me?  " 

He  paused  a  moment  at  the  front  door  to  listen.  No 
sound  from  within  indicated  any  danger. 

"  Think  they're  going  to  keep  me  in  this  graveyard 
burg!"  he  gibed.  "And  stop  my  having  that  girl! 
Well,  they've  got  another  think  coming.  She's  mine, 
that  young  porpoise.  She's  mine!" 

Into  the  cabin  he  made  his  way,  noiselessly,  closed 
the  hall  door  and  smiled  with  exultation. 

He  needed  but  a  moment  to  reach  the  desk,  take  out 
the  little  slip  of  paper  on  which  the  captain  had  written 
the  combination,  and  go  to  the  safe. 

A  few  turns  of  the  knob,  and  the  iron  door  swung 
wide.  Open  came  the  money-compartment.  With 
exultant  hands,  filled  with  triumph  and  evil  pride,  Hal 
caught  up  the  sheaf  of  bills  there,  quickly  counted  off 


ROBBERY  251 

five  hundred  dollars,  took  a  couple  more  bills  for  good 
luck,  crammed  the  money  into  his  pocket,  and  replaced 
the  pitifully  small  remnant  in  the  compartment. 

"  Sorry  I've  got  to  leave  any,"  he  reflected,  "  but 
it'll  be  safer.  It  may  keep  him  from  noticing.  The 
old  man  wouldn't  let  me  have  a  boat,  eh  ?  And  Laura 
turned  me  down,  did  she?  Well  now,  we'll  soon  see 
about  all  that !  " 

"  Master  Hal,  sir !  What  in  the  name  o'  Tophet  are 
you  up  to?  " 

The  sound  of  Ezra's  voice  swung  Hal  sharp  around. 
So  intent  had  he  been  that  he  had  quite  failed  to  notice 
the  cessation  of  the  old  cook's  chantey.  A  moment, 
Hal's  eyes,  staring,  met  those  of  the  astonished  servitor. 
Ominous  silence  filled  the  room. 

"Why,  Master  Hal!"  Ezra  quavered.  "You  — 
ain't  — " 

"  You  sneaking  spy !  "  Hal  growled  at  him,  even  in 
his  rage  and  panic  careful  to  keep  his  voice  low,  lest  he 
awake  the  doctor,  above-stairs.  Toward  the  old  man 
he  advanced,  with  rowdy  oaths  of  the  fo'cs'le. 

Ezra  stood  his  ground. 

"  /  ain't  no  spy,  Master  Hal,"  he  exclaimed,  trem 
blingly.  "  But  I  come  into  the  dinin'-saloon,  here,  an' 
couldn't  help  seein'.  Tell  me  it  ain't  so,  Master  Hal ! 
Tell  me  you  ain't  sunk  so  low  as  to  be  robbin'  your  own 
grandpa,  while  he's  to  town  in  all  this  rain,  settlin'  up 
things  fer  you!  Not  that,  Master  Hal  —  not  that!" 

"  Ezra,  you  damn  son-of-a-sea-cook!  "  snarled  Hal, 
his  face  the  face  of  murder.  "  You  call  me  a  thief 
again,  and  so  help  me  but  I'll  wring  your  neck  !  "  His 
hand  caught  Ezra  by  the  throat  and  closed  in  a  gorilla- 
grip,  shutting  off  all  breath.  "  You  didn't  learn  your 
lesson  from  the  club  last  night,  eh?  Well,  I'll  teach 
you  one  now,  you  old  gray  rat!  I'll  shut  your  mouth, 
damn  you !  " 


252  CURSED 

Viciously  he  shook  the  weak  old  man.  Ezra  clawed 
with  impotent  hands  at  the  vise-clutch  strangling  him. 

"  It's  my  money,  my  own  money,  understand?  "  Hal 
spat  at  him.  "  Every  penny  of  it's  mine.  He  didn't 
want  me  to  have  it  just  yet,  but  I'm  going  to,  and 
you're  not  going  to  blow  on  me!  If  you  do — " 

He  loosed  his  hold,  snatched  down  from  its  sur- 
porting  hooks  the  Malay  kris,  and  with  it  gripped  in 
hand  confronted  the  trembling,  half-fainting  cook. 

"  See  this,  Ezra?  "  And  Hal  shook  the  envenomed 
blade  before  the  poor  old  fellow's  horror-smitten  eyes. 

"  Master  —  Master  Hal!" 

"If  you  breathe  so  much  as  one  syllable  to  the  cap 
tain,  I'll  split  you  with  this  knife,  as  sure  as  I'm  a  foot 
high!  What?  Butting  in  on  me,  in  my  own  house, 
are  you?  Like  hell!  Take  a  slant  at  this  knife  here, 
and  see  how  you'd  like  it  through  your  guts !  " 

He  raised  it  as  if  to  strike.  Ezra  cowered,  shrink 
ing  with  the  imminent  terror  of  death. 

"  Master  Hal,  oh,  f er  God's  sake,  now  — " 

"  You're  going  to  keep  your  jaw-tackle  quiet,  are 
you,  to  the  captain?" 

"  I  —  I  — " 

Wickedly  Hal  slashed  at  him.  Ezra  opened  his 
mouth,  no  doubt  to  cry  aloud,  but  Hal  clapped  a 
sinewed  hand  over  it,  and  slammed  him  back  against 
the  wall. 

"  Not  a  word  more !  "  he  commanded,  and  released 
the  trembling  old  man.  "  I've  got  to  turn  you  loose, 
Ezra,  but  if  you  double-cross  me,  so  help  me  God — " 

"  You  callin'  on  God,  Master  Hal?  "  quavered  Ezra. 
"  You,  with  your  heathen  curses  an'  your  Malay  sword, 
an'  all  the  evil  seed  you're  sowin'  fer  a  terrible  crop  o' 
misery?  " 

"Shut  up,  you!" 

"  Coin'   on  this  way,   Master  Hal,  after  you  jest 


ROBBERY  253 

promised  the  cap'n  you  was  goin'  to  begin  at  the  bottom 
o'  the  ladder  an'  climb  ag'in?  This  here  ain't  the  bot 
tom  ;  this  here  is  a  deep  ditch  you're  diggin',  fur  below 
that  bottom.  Oh,  Master  Hal,"  and  Ezra's  shaking 
hands  went  out  in  passionate  appeal,  "  ef  you  got  any 
love  fer  the  memory  o'  your  dead  mother;  ef  you  got 
any  fer  your  grandpa,  what's  been  so  wonderful  good 
to  you ;  ef  you  got  any  little  grain  o'  gratitude  to  me, 
fer  all  these  long  years  — " 

"  Ezra,  you  bald-headed  old  pot-walloper,  I'm  going 
to  count  ten  on  you,"  Hal  interrupted,  terrible  with 
rage.  "  If,  by  the  end  of  that  time  you  haven't  sworn 
to  keep  your  mouth  shut  about  this,  I'm  going  to  kill 
you  right  here  in  this  room !  I  mean  that,  Ezra !  " 

"  But  ef  it's  y'r  own  money,  Master  Hal,  why  should 
you  be  afeared  to  let  him  know?  " 

Hal  struck  the  old  man  a  staggering  blow  in  the  face. 
"  You  keep  your  voice  down/'  he  snarled.  "If  you 
wake  the  doctor,  and  he  comes  down  here,  God  help 
the  pair  of  you!  Now,  Ezra,  I'm  not  going  to  trifle 
with  you  any  longer.  You're  going  to  swear  secrecy, 
and  do  it  quick,  or  take  the  consequences !  " 

He  turned,  caught  up  the  captain's  well-thumbed 
Bible  from  the  desk,  and  with  the  Bible  in  one  hand, 
the  poisoned  kris  in  the  other,  confronted  Ezra. 

"  Here !  Lay  your  hand  on  this  book,  damn  quick !  " 
he  ordered.  "  And  repeat  what  I  tell  you.  Quick, 
now;  quick! " 

The  argument  of  the  raised  kris  overbore  Ezra's 
resistance.  With  a  look  of  heart-breaking  anguish 
he  laid  a  trembling,  veinous  hand  on  the  Bible. 

"  What  is  it,  Master  Hal?  "  quavered  he.  "  What 
d'ye  want  me  to  say  ?  " 

""  Say  this:     '  If  I  betray  this  secret—' ' 

"  '  If  I  —  if  I  betray  this  secret  — ' 

"  '  May  the  black  curse  of  Vishnu  fall  on  me!  ' 


254  CURSED 

"  '  May  the  ' —  listen,  Master  Hal !  Please  now, 
jest  one  minute !  " 

"  Ezra,  say  it,  damn  your  stiff,  obstinate  neck !  Say 
it,  or  you  get  the  knife!  " 

"  '  May  the  black  curse  o'  —  o'  Vishnoo  fall  on  me !  " 

"  '  And  may  his  poisoned  kris  strike  through  my 
heart!' 

"  No,  no,  sir,  I  can't  say  that !  "  pleaded  the  simple 
old  fellow,  ashen  to  the  lips,  his  forehead  lined  with 
deep  wrinkles  of  terror. 

"  You  will  say  it,  Ezra,  and  you'll  mean  it,  or  by 
the  powers  of  darkness  I'll  butcher  you  where  you 
stand !  "  menaced  Hal.  "  And  you'll  say  it  quick, 
too !  "  Hal  was  nerving  his  hand  to  do  cold  murder. 
"  One,  two,  three,  four!  Say  it  now  before  I  cut  you 
down!  There's  blood  on  this  knife,  Ezra.  See  the 
dark  stains?  Blood,  that  my  grandfather  put  on 
there,  fifty  years  ago  —  that's  what  I've  heard  among 
old  sailors  —  put  on  there,  because  some  of  his  men 
wouldn't  obey  him.  Well,  I  can  play  the  same  game. 
What  he  did,  I  can  do,  and  will!  There'll  be  more 
blood  on  it,  fresh  blood,  your  blood,  if  you  don't  mind 
me.  Five,  six,  seven!  Say  it,  you  obstinate  cur!  " 

Up  rose  the  kris  again,  ready  to  strike.  Hal's  eyes 
were  glowing.  His  lips  had  drawn  back,  showing 
the  gleam  of  white  teeth. 

"  Keep  your  hand  on  that  Bible,  Ezra !  Take  that 
oath.  Say  it!  Eight,  nine,  t — " 

"I'll  say  it,  Master  Hal!  I'll  say  it!  "  gasped  the 
old  man.  "Don't  kill  me  —  don't!" 

"  Say  it,  then :  '  May  this  poisoned  kris  strike 
through  my  heart ! ' 

"  '  M-m-may  this  poisoned  kris  —  strike  through  — 
my  —  heart ! '  There  now !  Oh !  Now  I've  said  it. 
Let  me  go  —  let  me  go !  " 


ROBBERY  255 

"  Go,  and  be  damned  to  you !  Get  out  o'  here,  you 
spying  surka-batcha —  you  son-of-a-pig!  " 

Hal  dropped  the  Bible  back  on  to  the  desk,  swung 
Ezra  'round,  and  pitched  him,  staggering,  into  the  din- 
ing-saloon.  Ezra  dragged  himself  away,  quaking, 
ghastly,  to  his  own  room,  there  to  lock  himself  in. 
Spent,  terrified,  he  threw  himself  upon  his  bunk,  and 
lay  there,  half  dead. 

Well  satisfied,  Hal  reviewed  the  situation. 

"  I  guess  I've  kept  him  quiet  for  a  while,"  he  mut 
tered.  "  Long  enough,  anyhow.  I  won't  need  much 
more  time  now." 

Back  to  the  fireplace  he  turned,  hung  up  the  kris 
again  on  its  hooks,  glanced  around  to  assure  himself 
he  had  left  no  traces  of  his  robbery.  He  closed  the 
door  of  the  safe,  spun  the  knob,  and  in  the  desk- 
drawer  replaced  the  slip  of  paper  bearing  the  combina 
tion. 

"  I  guess  I've  fixed  things  so  they'll  hold  a  while 
now,"  judged  he.  "  God,  what  a  place  —  what  people ! 
Spies,  all  spies !  They're  all  spying  on  me  here.  And 
Laura's  giving  me  the  laugh,  too.  Maybe  I  won't 
show  them  all  a  thing  or  two !  " 

He  listened  a  moment,  and,  satisfied,  opened  the 
door  into  the  front  hall.  To  all  appearances  the  coast 
was  free.  He  snatched  a  cap,  jammed  it  upon  his 
head,  and,  hunching  into  an  old  raincoat,  quietly  left 
the  house. 

The  Airedale  would  have  followed  him,  but  with 
the  menace  of  an  upraised  fist  he  sent  it  back.  Through 
the  gate  he  went,  and  turned  toward  the  right,  in  the 
direction  of  Hadlock's  Cove,  where  dwelt  Jim  Gordon, 
owner  of  the  Kittiwink. 

In  his  ears  the  wind,  ever-rising,  and  the  shouting 
of  the  quick-lashed  surf  along  the  rocks  joined  with 


256  CURSED 

the  slash  of  the  rain  to  make  a  chorus  glad  and  mighty, 
to  which  his  heart  expanded.  On  and  on  he  strode, 
exultant,  filled  with  evil  devisings  of  a  mind  half  mad 
in  the  lusts  of  strength  and  passion.  And  as  he  went 
he  held  communion  with  himself  : 

"  I'll  beat  'em  to  it  —  and  devil  take  anything  that 
stands  in  my  way !  To  hell  with  them  —  to  hell  with 
everything  that  goes  against  me!" 


/ 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

SELF-SACRIFICE 

The  rapidly  increasing  northeast  storm,  that  meant 
so  little  to  Hal  Briggs,  thoroughly  drenched  and  chilled 
the  old  captain  long  before  he  reached  home. 

By  the  time  he  had  navigated  back  to  Snug  Haven, 
he  was  wet  to  the  bone,  and  was  shivering  with  the 
drive  of  the  gale  now  piling  gray  lines  of  breakers 
along  the  shore.  Dr.  Filhiol,  his  face  very  hard,  met 
the  old  captain  at  the  front  door ;  while  Ezra  —  silent, 
dejected,  with  acute  misery  and  fear  —  took  the  an 
cient  horse  away  up  the  puddled  lane. 

"  This  is  outrageous,  captain !  "  the  doctor  expostu 
lated.  "  The  idea  of  your  exposing  yourself  this  way 
at  your  age !  " 

"Where's  Hal?"  shivered  the  captain.  "I've  got 
to  see  Hal !  G-g-got  to  tell  him  all  his  debts  are  paid, 
and  he's  a  free  man  again !  " 

"  You're  hoarse  as  a  frog,  sir;  you've  got  a  thunder 
ing  cold !  "  chided  the  doctor.  "  I  order  you  to  bed, 
sir,  where  I'll  give  you  a  stiff  glass  of  whisky  and 
lemon,  and  sweat  you  properly." 

"Nonsense!"  chattered  the  captain.  "I'll  j-j-just 
change  my  clothes,  and  sit  by  the  fire,  and  I'll  be  all 
r-r-right.  Where's  Hal?  I  want  Hal!" 

"Hal?  How  do  /  know?"  demanded  Filhiol. 
"He's  gone.  Where's  he  bound  for?  No  good,  I'll 
warrant,  in  this  storm.  It  shows  how  much  he  cares, 
what  you  do  for  him,  the  way  he  — " 

"  By  the  Judas  priest,  sir !  "  interrupted  Briggsv 
257 


258  CURSED 

"  I'm  not  going  to  have  anything  said  against  Hal,  ROY; 
he's  free.  I  know  you're  my  guest,  doctor,  but  don't 
drive  me  too  far !  " 

"  Well,  I'll  say  no  more.  But  now,  into  your  bunk ! 
There's  no  argument  about  that,  anyhow.  Bathrobe 
and  hot  water-bottle  now,  and  a  good  tot  of  rum !  " 

The  captain  had  to  yield.  A  quarter-hour  later  the 
doctor  had  him  safely  tucked  into  his  berth  in  the 
cabin,  with  whisky  and  lemon  aboard  him.  "  There, 
that's  better,"  approved  Filhiol.  "  You'll  do  now, 
unless  you  get  up,  and  take  another  chill.  I  want  you 
to  stay  right  there  till  to-morrow  at  the  very  least. 
Understand  me?  Now,  I  prescribe  a  nap  for  you. 
And  a  good  sweat,  and  by  to-morrow  you'll  be  fine  as 
silk." 

"  All  right,  doctor,"  agreed  Briggs,  though  Hal's  ab 
sence  troubled  him  sore.  "  There's  only  one  thing  I 
want  you  to  do.  Put  my  receipts  in  the  safe." 

"What  receipts?" 

"  For  the  cash  I  paid  Squire  Bean  and  for  the  money- 
order  I  sent  the  college." 

"Where  are  they?" 

"  In  my  wallet,  there,  in  that  inside  coat-pocket,"  an 
swered  Briggs,  pointing  to  the  big  blue  coat  hung  over 
a  chair  by  the  fire.  "  The  combination  of  the  safe 
is  in  that  top  drawer,  on  a  slip  of  paper.  You  can  open 
the  safe  easy  enough." 

"  All  right,  anything  to  please  you,"  grumbled  the 
old  doctor.  "  Where  shall  I  put  the  receipts,  cap 
tain?" 

"  In  the  cash-drawer.     Inner  drawer,  top,  right." 

Filhiol  located  the  drawer  and  dropped  the  pre 
cious  receipts  into  it.  His  eyes,  that  could  still  see 
quite  plainly  by  the  fading,  gray  light  of  the  stormy 
late  afternoon,  descried  a  few  bills  in  the  drawer. 

"  It's  been  a  terrible  expense  to  you,  captain,"  said 


SELF-SACRIFICE  259 

he  with  the  license  of  long  years  of  acquaintanceship. 
"  Down  a  bit  on  the  cash  now,  eh?  " 

"  Yes,  doctor,  down  a  bit.  Plims'l-mark's  under 
water  this  time.  But  I'm  not  foundering  just  yet. 
There's  still  seven  hundred  and  fifty  or  so." 

"Seven  fifty?"  asked  the  doctor,  squinting.  A 
sudden  suspicion  laid  hold  of  him  as  he  eyed  the  slender 
pile  of  bills.  With  crooked  fingers  he  ran  them  over. 
"  Why,  there's  not  —  h-m!  h-m!"  he  checked  himself. 

"  Eh?  What's  that,  sir?  "  asked  the  captain,  drowsy 
already. 

"  Nothing,  sir,"  answered  Filhiol.  "  I  was  just  go 
ing  to  say  there's  not  many  as  well  fixed  as  you  are, 
captain.  Even  though  your  cash  is  low,  you've  got  a 
pretty  comfortable  place  here." 

"  Yes,  yes,  it's  pretty  snug,"  sleepily  assented  Briggs. 
"  And  now  that  Hal's  coming  back,  I'm  happy.  A 
few  dollars  —  they  don't  matter,  eh?  " 

Hastily  Filhiol  counted  the  bills.  Only  a  matter  of 
about  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars  remained. 
As  in  a  flash  the  old  doctor  comprehended  everything. 

"  7^ss!  Tss! "  clucked  the  doctor,  going  a  shade 
paler.  But  he  said  no  more. 

He  closed  the  safe  and  put  the  combination  back  into 
the  desk-drawer.  For  a  moment  he  stood  leaning  on 
his  cane,  peering  down  at  the  captain,  who  was  already 
going  to  sleep.  Then  he  shook  his  head,  grief  and 
rage  on  his  face. 

"  God !  "  he  was  thinking.  "  Robbery!  On  top  of 
everything  else,  downright  robbery!  This  will  cer 
tainly  kill  the  old  man!  What  black  devil  is  in  that 
boy  anyhow  ?  What  devil  out  of  hell  ?  " 

He  paused  a  moment,  looking  with  profound  com 
passion  at  the  tired  old  captain.  Then  he  limped  out 
of  the  room,  and  made  his  way  to  the  galley,  bent  on 
having  speech  with  Ezra. 


26o  CURSED 

Down  the  walk  from  the  barn  Ezra  was  at  this  mo 
ment  coming,  shoulders  bent  against  the  storm,  hat- 
brim  trickling  water.  The  rain  was  now  slashing 
viciously,  in  pelting  ribbons  of  gray  water  that 
drummed  on  the  tin  roof  of  the  kitchen  and  danced  in 
spatters  on  the  walk. 

Filhiol  opened  the  door  for  Ezra,  who  peeled  off 
his  coat,  and  shook  his  wet  hands. 

"  Great,  creepin'  clams !  "  he  puffed.  "  But  this  is 
some  tidy  wind,  sir !  These  here  Massachusetts  storms 
can't  be  beat,  the  way  they  pounce.  An'  rain !  Say ! 
Must  be  a  picnic  somewhere  nigh.  Never  rains  like 
this  unless  there  is  one !  " 

The  old  man  tried  to  smile,  but  joviality  was  lack 
ing.  He  closed  the  door  and  came  over  to  the  stove. 
The  doctor  followed  him. 

"  Ezra,"  said  he,  "  you  don't  like  me.  No  matter. 
You  do  like  Captain  Briggs,  don't  you?" 

"  That  ain't  a  question  as  needs  answerin',"  returned 
Ezra,  with  suspicious  eyes. 

"  I  like  the  captain,  too,"  continued  Filhiol. 
"  We've  got  to  join  hands  to  help  him.  And  he's  in 
very,  very  serious  trouble  now." 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  "  The  old  servitor  sensed  what 
was  in  the  wind,  and  braced  himself  to  meet  it. 

"If  it  came  to  choosing  between  Hal  and  the  cap 
tain,  which  would  you  stand  by?  " 

"  That's  another  question  that  ain't  needed !  "  re 
torted  Ezra  defiantly. 

"  It's  got  to  be  answered,  though.  Something  criti 
cal  has  happened,  Ezra,  and  we've  got  to  take  the  bull 
by  the  horns." 

"  Better  take  the  bull  by  the  tail,  doctor.  Then  you 
can  let  go  without  hollerin'  fer  help." 

"  This  is  no  time  for  joking,  Ezra !  Something 
has  happened  that,  if  the  captain  finds  it  out,  will  have 


SELF-SACRIFICE  '261 

terrible  consequences.  If  he  discovers  what's  hap 
pened,  I  can't  answer  for  the  consequences.  It  might 
even  kill  him,  the  shock  might." 

"  Wha  —  what  d'  you  mean,  sir?  "  demanded  Ezra, 
going  white.  "  What  are  you  gammin'  about,  any 
how  ?  " 

"  I  might  as  well  tell  you,  directly.  Captain  Briggs 
has  just  been  robbed  of  more  than  five  hundred 
dollars." 

"Robbed!    No!    Holy  haddock!    You  — don't— " 

"  Robbed,"  asserted  Filhiol.  "  More  than  five  hun 
dred  dollars  are  gone  from  the  safe,  and  —  Hal's  gone, 
too." 

"  Dr.  Filhiol,  sir!  "  exclaimed  the  old  man  passion 
ately,  but  in  a  low  voice  that  could  not  reach  the  cabin. 
"  That  wun't  go  here.  You're  company,  I  know,  but 
there's  some  things  that  goes  too  doggone  fur.  Ef  you 
mean  to  let  on  that  Master  Hal  — 

"  The  money's  gorie,  I  tell  you,  and  so  is  Hal.  I 
know  that!" 

"  Yes,  an'  I  know  Master  Hal,  too !  "  asseverated 
Ezra,  manfully  standing  by  his  guns,  not  through  any 
fear  of  Hal's  vengeance,  but  only  for  the  honor  of 
the  house  and  of  the  boy  he  worshipped.  "  Ef  you 
mean  to  accuse  him  of  bein'  a  thief,  well  then,  me  an' 
you  has  nothin'  more  to  say.  We're  docked,  an'  crew 
an'  cargo  is  discharged  right  now.  All  done!  " 

"  Hold  on,  Ezra !  "  commanded  Filhiol.  "  I'm  not 
making  any  direct  accusation.  All  I'm  saying  is  that 
the  money  and  Hal  are  both  gone." 

"  How  d'  you  know  the  money's  gone?  How  come 
you  to  be  at  the  cap'n's  safe  an'  money-drawer?  " 

"I  —  why  — "  stammered  Filhiol,  taken  aback. 
"  Wrhy,  the  captain  had  me  open  it,  to  put  in  some  re 
ceipts,  and  he  told  me  how  much  he  thought  was  there. 
I  saw  he  was  mistaken,  by  more  than  five  hundred." 


262  CURSED 

"  Oh,  you  counted  the  cap'n's  money,  did  ye?  "  Ezra 
demanded  boldly.  "  Well,  that's  some  nerve !  In  case 
it  comes  to  a  showdown,  where  would  you  fit?  Looks 
like  your  fingers  might  git  burned,  don't  it?  " 

"  Mine?     What  do  you  mean,  sir?  " 

"  Well,  you  was  there,  wa'n't  ye  ?  An'  Master  Hal 
wa'n't,  that's  all!  "  Swiftly  Ezra  was  thinking.  The 
loss,  he  knew,  could  not  be  kept  from  Captain  Briggs. 
And  Hal  must  be  protected.  Sudden  inspiration 
dawned  on  him. 

"  How  much  d'  you  say  is  gone?  "  demanded  he. 

"  Five  hundred  and  some  odd  dollars." 

"  Yes,  that's  right,"  said  the  old  man,  nodding. 
'  'Them's  the  correct  figgers,  all  right  enough." 

"  How  do  you  know?  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  star 
ing. 

"  Why  hadn't  I  ought  to,  when  I  took  that  there 
money  myself?  " 

"  You?  " 

"  Me,  sir !  I'm  the  one  as  stole  it,  an'  what's  more, 
I  got  it  now,  up-stairs  in  my  trunk !  " 

Silence  a  moment  while  the  doctor  peered  at  him  with 
wrinkled  brow. 

"  That's  not  true,  Ezra,"  said  he  at  last,  meeting  the 
old  man's  defiant  look.  "  You're  lying  now  to  shield 
that  boy!" 

"  Lyin',  am  I  ?  "  And  Ezra  reddened  dully.  "  Dr. 
Filhiol,  sir,  ef  you  wa'n't  an  old  man,  an'  hobblin'  on  a 
cane,  them  ain't  the  words  you'd  use  to  me,  an'  go 
clear!" 

"I  —  I  beg  your  pardon,  Ezra,"  stammered  the  doc 
tor.  "  I'm  not  saying  it  in  a  derogatory  sense." 

"  Rogatory  or  hogatory,  don't  make  a  damn's  odds ! 
You  called  me  a  liar !  " 

"  A  noble  liar.  That  kind  of  a  lie  is  noble,  Ezra, 
but  very  foolish.  I  understand  you,  all  right.  When 


SELF-SACRIFICE  '263 

I  say  you're  trying  to  shield  Hal,  I've  hit  the  mark." 

"You  ain't  half  the  shot  you  think  you  be,  sir! 
There's  lots  o'  marksmen  in  this  world  can't  even  make 
a  gun  go  off,  an'  yet  they  can't  miss  fire  in  the  next 
world.  You're  one  of  'em.  I  took  the  money,  I  tell 
ye,  an'  I  can  prove  it  by  showin'  it  to  you,  in  two  min 
utes!" 

The  old  man,  turning,  started  for  the  stairs. 

"  Where  are  you  going  now  ?  "  demanded  Filhiol. 

"  To  git  that  there  money !  " 

"  Your  own  savings,  no  doubt  ?  To  shield  Hal 
with?" 

"  The  money  I  stole,  an'  don't  ye  f ergit  it  neither !  " 
retorted  Ezra  with  a  look  so  menacing  that  the  doctor 
ventured  no  reply.  In  silence  he  watched  the  old  man, 
wet  clothes  still  clinging  to  him,  plod  up  the  stairs  and 
disappear. 

"  Lord,  if  this  isn't  a  tangled  web,"  thought  Filhiol, 
"what  is?  I  ought  never  to  have  come.  And  yet 
I'm  needed  every  minute,  if  a  terrible  catastrophe  is 
to  be  turned  aside !  " 

His  heart  contracted  at  thought  of  the  inevitable 
shock  to  Captain  Briggs  if  he  should  discover  the  theft. 
Could  Ezra  conceal  it,  even  with  his  savings?  And,  if 
he  could,  would  it  not  be  best  to  let  him  ?  Would  not 
anything  be  preferable  to  having  the  captain's  soul 
wrung  out  of  him?  Sudden  hate  against  the  cause 
of  all  this  misery  flared  up  in  him. 

"  Great  God!  "  he  muttered.  "  If  I  only  had  that 
Hal  for  a  patient,  just  one  hour !  " 

The  footsteps  of  Ezra,  descending  again,  roused 
him.  In  Ezra's  hand  was  gripped  a  roll  of  bills,  old 
and  tattered  for  the  most  part  —  a  roll  that  counted 
up  to  some  five  hundred  and  thirty  dollars,  or  to  within 
about  forty  dollars  of  every  cent  Ezra  had  in  the  world. 
More  than  fifteen  years  of  hard-earned  savings  lay  in 


264  CURSED 

that  roll.  This  money  Ezra  had  hastily  dug  from 
under  a  lot  of  old  clothes  in  his  trunk.  And  now  he 
shook  it  before  the  eyes  of  Filhiol,  eager  to  sacrifice  it. 

"  Is  that  proof  enough  fer  you  now,  or  ain't  it?  " 
Ezra  exultantly  demanded.  "  Dollar  fer  dollar,  about, 
what  the  cap'n  said  had  oughta  be  in  the  safe,  an'  ain't? 
\Vell,  does  that  satisfy  ye  now?  " 

Filhiol  had  no  answer.  His  brain  was  whirling. 
Ezra  laughed  in  his  face. 

"  I  got  your  goat  all  right,  old  feller!  "  gibed  he. 

"  Ezra,"  said  the  doctor  slowly,  "  I  don't  understand 
this  at  all.  I'm  no  detective.  This  is  too  much  for 
me.  Either  you're  a  monumental  fool  or  a  sublime 
hero.  Maybe  both.  I  can't  judge.  All  I  want  to  do 
is  look  out  for  Captain  Briggs.  I  was  his  medical  of 
ficer  in  the  old  days.  Now  I  seem  to  be  back  on  the 
job  again.  That's  all." 

"  Yes,  an'  I'm  on  the  job,  too,  an'  you'd  better  keep 
out  o'  what  don't  consarn  ye,"  menaced  Ezra.  "  Every 
man  to  his  job,  an'  yours  ain't  ratin'  down  Master  Hal 
an'  makin'  a  thief  of  him!  " 

"  All  right,  Ezra.  Put  the  money  in  the  safe. 
Whether  it's  yours  or  not,  doesn't  matter  now.  It 
will  protect  the  captain's  peace  of  mind  a  little  longer, 
and  that's  the  main  thing  now." 

Ezra  nodded.  Together  they  went  quietly  into  the 
cabin.  Watchfully  they  observed  the  captain.  Face 
to  the  wall,  he  was  profoundly  sleeping. 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  Filhiol.  "  You  can  open  the 
safe  and  put  the  money  in." 

Ezra  advanced  to  it,  on  tiptoe.  But  Ezra  did  not 
open  the  safe.  Puzzled,  he  stopped  and  whispered : 

"I  —  doggone  it,  I've  f  ergot  the  combination 
now !  " 

"Have,  eh?"  asked  Filhiol  with  a  sharp  look. 
"  Well  then,  all  you've  got  to  do  is  look  at  the  paper." 


SELF-SACRIFICE  265 

"The  —  h-m!" 

"Of  course  you  know  he  keeps  it  on  a  paper?  "  said 
the  doctor  shrewdly. 

"  Oh,  sure,  sure !  But  just  now  I  disremember 
where  that  paper  is !  " 

Filhiol  retreated  to  the  dining-room,  and  beckoned 
Ezra  to  him. 

"  See  here,"  said  he  in  a  low  tone,  "  this  game  of 
jours  is  pitifully  thin.  Why  don't  you  own  up  to  the 
truth?  Your  loyalty  to  Hal  is  wonderful.  The  re 
cording  angel  is  writing  it  all  down  in  his  big  book; 
.but  you  can't  fool  anybody.  Why,  not  even  a  child 
would  believe  you,  Ezra,  and  how  can  I  —  a  hard- 
.shelled  old  man  who's  knocked  up  and  down  the  seven 
seas?  You  know  perfectly  well  Hal  Briggs  stole  that 
money.  Own  up  now !  " 

The  old  cook  fixed  a  look  of  ire  on  him,  and  with 
clenched  fist  confronted  Filhiol. 

"  Doctor,"  said  he,  "  there's  two  things  makes  most 
o'  the  trouble  in  this  here  world.  One  is  evil  tongues, 
to  speak  ill  o'  folks,  an'  the  other  is  evil  ears,  to  listen. 
There's  jest  two  things  you  can't  do  here  —  speak  ill  o' 
the  cap'n,  an'  talk  ag'in'  Master  Hal.  Ef  you  do,  doc 
—  it  don't  signify  ef  you  be  old,  I'll  make  it  damn  good 
an'  hot  f er  you !  Now,  then,  I've  warned  you  proper. 
That's  all  —  an'  that's  enough !  " 

"  You  don't  understand  — "  the  doctor  was  just  go 
ing  to  retort,  when  a  trample  of  feet  on  the  front  porch 
brought  him  to  silence. 

"  There's  Master  Hal  now !  "  exclaimed  the  old  cook, 
with  an  expression  of  dismay.  "  An'  the  money  ain't 
back  in  the  safe  yit  —  an'  Master  Hal's  li'ble  to  wake 
the  cap'n  up !  " 

"  He  mustn't  wake  him  up !  "  said  Filhiol.  He 
turned,  and,  hobbling  on  his  cane,  started  for  the  front 
door  to  head  him  off.  Too  late!  Already  Hal  had 


266  CURSED 

flung  off  his  cap  and,  stamping  wet  feet,  had  entered 
the  cabin.     The  voice  of  the  captain  sounded : 

"  Oh,  that  you,  Hal?  God  above!  but  I'm  glad  to 
see  you !  Come  here,  boy,  come  here.  I've  got  news 
for  you.  Great,  good  news!  " 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

TREACHERY 

Still  in  his  dripping  rain-coat,  Hal  approached  the 
berth. 

"  Whew,  but  it's  hot  and  stifling  in  here,  gramp !  " 
said  he.  He  turned  and  opened  a  window,  letting  the 
damp,  chill  wind  draw  through.  "  There,  that's  bet 
ter  now.  Well,  what's  the  big  news,  eh?  " 

The  old  captain  regarded  him  a  moment,  deeply 
moved.  In  the  dining-room,  Ezra  had  hastilly  stuffed 
the  bills  into  his  pocket.  Now  he  was  retreating  to 
his  galley.  Filhiol,  undecided  what  to  do,  did  noth 
ing;  but  remained  in  the  front  hall. 

"  What's  the  news?  "  repeated  Hal.  He  looked  dis 
heveled,  excited.  "  And  what  are  you  in  bed  for,  this 
time  of  day  ?  " 

His  voice  betrayed  nothing  save  curiosity.  No  sym 
pathy  softened  it. 

"  The  doctor  made  me  turn  in,"  Briggs  explained. 
"  I  got  wet  through,  going  to  town.  But  it  was  all  for 
you,  boy.  So  why  should  /  mind  ?  " 

"For  me,  eh?"  demanded  Hal.  "More  trouble? 
Enough  storm  outside,  without  kicking  up  any  more 
rows  inside.  Some  weather,  gramp!  Some  sailing 
weather,  once  a  boat  got  out  past  the  breakwater, 
where  she  could  make  her  manners  to  the  nor'east 
blow !  "  His  tongue  seemed  a  trifle  thick,  but  the 
captain  perceived  nothing.  "  Well,  gramp,  what  was 
the  idea  of  going  to  town  an  afternoon  like  this?  " 

"  To  set  you  on  the  right  road  again,  boy."  The 
267 


268  CURSED 

captain  raised  himself  on  one  elbow,  and  peered  at  his 
beloved  Hal.  "  To  open  up  a  better  career  for  you 
than  /  had.  No  more  sea-life,  Hal.  There's  been 
far  too  much  salt  in  our  blood  for  generations.  It's 
time  the  Briggs  family  came  ashore.  You've  got  bet 
ter  things  ahead  of  you,  now,  than  fighting  the  sea. 
Peel  your  wet  coat  off,  Hal,  and  sit  down.  You'll 
take  cold,  I'm  afraid." 

"Cold,  nothing!  This  is  the  kind  of  weather  I 
like!" 

He  pulled  up  a  chair  by  the  berth,  and  flung  himself 
down  into  it,  hulking,  rude,  flushed.  In  the  dim  light 
old  Captain  Briggs  did  not  see  that  telltale  flush  of 
drink.  He  did  not  note  the  sinister  exultation  in  his 
grandson's  voice.  Nor  did  he  understand  the  look  of 
Hal's  searching  eyes  that  tried  to  fathom  whether  the 
old  man  as  yet  had  any  suspicions  of  the  robbery. 

The  captain  reached  out  from  the  bedclothes  he 
should  have  kept  well  over  him,  and  laid  his  hand  on 
Hal's. 

"  Listen,"  said  he,  weak  and  shaken.  His  forehead 
glistened,  damp  with  sweat  "  It's  good  news.  I've 
been  down  to  see  Squire  Bean.  I've  paid  him  the 
money  for  McLaughlin,  and  got  a  receipt  for  it,  and 
the  case  against  you  is  all  settled.  Ended !  " 

"  Is,  eh  ? "  demanded  Hal,  with  calculating  eyes, 
"  Great !  And  the  apology  stuff  is  all  off,  too  ?  " 

"  Well,  no,  not  that.  Of  course  you've  still  got  to 
apologize  to  him  so  all  the  crew  can  hear  it.  But  that's 
only  a  little  detail.  Any  time  will  do.  I  know  that 
after  what  I've  sacrificed  for  you,  boy,  you'll  be  glad  to 
play  the  part  of  a  man  and  go  down  there  and  apolo 
gize,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Surest  little  thing  you  know !  "  Filhiol  heard  him 
answer,  with  malice  and  deceit  which  Captain  Briggs 
could  not  fathom.  "  The  crew  will  hear  from  me,  all 


TREACHERY  269 

right.  Some  of  'em  have  already.  Yes,  that's  a  fact. 
I've  already  apologized  to  three  of  'em.  I'll  square 
everything,  gramp.  So  that's  all  settled.  Anything 
more?  " 

"  You're  true  metal,  at  heart !  "  murmured  Briggs, 
shivering  as  the  draft  from  the  open  window  struck 
him.  "  Thank  God  for  it !  Yes,  there's  one  more 
thing.  I've  sent  the  money  to  the  college.  Sent  a 
money-order,  and  got  a  receipt  for  that,  too.  Both  re 
ceipts  are  in  the  money-drawer,  in  the  safe." 

"  They  are?  "  Hal  could  not  dissemble  his  sudden 
anxiety.  How  much,  now,  did  his  grandfather  know? 
Everything?  Suspiciously  he  blinked  at  the  old  man. 
"  So  you  put  'em  in  the  safe,  did  you?  "  asked  he,  de 
termined  to  force  the  issue. 

"  The  doctor  did  for  me." 

"Oh,  he  did,  did  he?  H-m!  Well,  all  right. 
What  next  ?  "  Hal  stiffened  for  the  blow,  but  the  cap 
tain  only  said : 

"  It's  fine  to  have  the  whole  thing  cleaned  up,  so  you 
can  start  on  another  tack !  "  The  old  man  smiled  with 
pitiful  affection.  "  Everything's  coming  out  right, 
after  all.  You  don't  know  how  wonderfully  happy  I 
am  to-day.  It  won't  be  long  before  I  have  you  back  in 
some  other  college  again." 

"  The  devil  it  won't !  "  thought  Hal.  The  doctor, 
at  the  rear  of  the  hallway,  felt  a  clutch  on  his  arm. 
There  stood  old  Ezra. 

"  Doctor,"  he  whispered  in  a  way  that  meant  busi 
ness,  "  you  ain't  goin'  to  stand  here  listenin'  to  'em,  this 
way!" 

"  I'm  not,  eh?  "  And  Filhiol  blinked  astonishment. 
"Why  not?" 

"  There's  ten  reasons.  One  is,  because  I  ain't  goin' 
to  let  you,  an'  the  other  nine  is  because  I  ain't  goin' 
to  let  you !  I  wouldn't  do  it  myself,  an'  you  ain't  goin' 


270  CURSED 

to,  neither.  Will  you  clear  out  o'  here,  peaceful,  or  be 
you  goin'  to  make  me  matt  onta  you  an'  carry  you 
out?" 

The  doctor  hesitated.     Ezra  added : 

"  Now,  doc,  don't  you  git  me  harr'd  up,  or  there'll 
be  stormy  times !  " 

Filhiol  yielded.  He  followed  Ezra  to  the  galley, 
where  the  old  man  practically  interned  him.  Inwardly 
he  cursed  this  development.  What  might  not  happen, 
were  the  captain  now  to  discover  the  loss  of  the  money 
while  Hal  was  there?  But  to  argue  with  Ezra  was 
hopeless.  Filhiol  settled  down  by  the  stove  and  re 
signed  himself  to  moody  panderings. 

"  This  summer,  take  things  easy,"  the  captain  was 
saying,  with  indulgence.  "  In  the  fall  you'll  enter 
some  other  college  and  win  honors  as  we  all  expect  you 
to.  So  you'll  be  glad  to  go,  won't  you,  Hal?" 

"I'll  be  glad  to  go,  all  right!" 

"That's  fine!  "  smiled  the  captain.  He  got  out  of 
bed  in  his  bathrobe,  slid  his  feet  into  slippers,  and 
stood  there  a  moment,  looking  at  Hal. 
)  "  Boy,"  said  he,  "  on  the  way  back  from  town  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  do  the  right  thing  by  you,  to  give 
you  something  every  young  fellow  along  the  coast 
ought  to  have.  You  were  asking  me  for  a  boat,  and  I 
refused  you.  I  was  wrong.  Nothing  finer,  after  all, 
than  a  little  cruising  up  and  down  the  shore.  I've 
changed  my  mind,  Hal."  He  laid  an  affectionate  hand 
on  the  boy's  shoulder.  "  I'm  going  to  give  you  the 
money  for  Gordon's  Kittiwink." 

"  Huh?  "  grunted  Hal,  standing  up  in  vast  astonish 
ment  and  anxiety. 

"  Take  the  money,  Hal,  and  buy  your  heart's  dearest 
wish,"  said  the  old  captain.  "  It'll  maybe  pinch  me, 
for  a  while,  but  you're  all  I've  got  to  love  and  some 
way  I  can  rub  along.  If  I  can  give  you  a  happy  sum- 


TREACHERY  271 

mer  the  few  hundred  dollars  won't  mean  much,  after 
all.  So,  boy,  get  yourself  the  boat.  Why,  what's  the 
matter?  You  look  kind  of  flabbergasted,  Hal.  Aren't 
you  glad  and  thankful?  " 

"  Surest  thing  you  know,  I  am !  "  the  boy  rallied 
with  a  strong  effort.  "  It's  great  of  you,  gramp ! 
But  —  can  you  afford  it  ?  " 

"  That's  for  me  to  judge,  Hal,"  smiled  the  captain, 
shivering  as  the  draft  struck  him.  He  turned  towards 
the  safe.  Hal  detained  him  with  a  hand  upon  his 
arm. 

"  Don't  give  it  to  me  just  yet,"  said  he,  anxiously. 
"  Wait  a  little !  " 

"  No,  no,  that  wouldn't  be  the  same  at  all,"  insisted 
Briggs.  "  I  want  you  to  have  this  present  now,  to-day, 
to  make  you  always  remember  your  fresh  start  in  life." 

"  Not  to-day,  gramp !  "  exclaimed  Hal.  "  I  don't 
feel  right  about  it,  and  —  and  I  can't  accept  it.  I 
want  to  make  a  really  new  start.  To  make  my  own 
way  —  be  a  man,  not  a  dependent !  Please  don't  spoil 
everything  the  first  minute  by  doing  this !  " 

"  But,  Hal  — " 

"  I  know  how  you  feel,"  said  the  boy,  with  feverish 
energy.  "  But  I've  got  feelings,  too,  and  now  you're 
hurting  them.  Please  don't,  grandfather!  Please 
let  me  stand  on  my  own  feet,  and  be  a  man !  " 

Old  Briggs,  who  had  with  feeble  steps  made  his  way 
half  across  the  floor,  turned  and  looked  at  Hal  with 
eyes  of  profound  affection. 

"  God  bless  you,  boy !  "  said  he  with  deep  emotion. 
"  Do  you  really  mean  that  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  do !  Come,  get  back  into  bed  now. 
You're  taking  cold  there.  Get  back  before  you  have 
another  chill !  " 

Anxiously  he  led  the  captain  back  towards  the  berth. 
His  touch  was  complete  betrayal.  Into  his  voice  he 


272  CURSED 

forced  a  tone  of  caressing  sincerity,  music  to  the  old 
man's  ears. 

"  I've  learned  a  great  deal  the  last  day  or  two,"  said 
he,  as  with  traitor  solicitude  he  put  the  captain  into  his 
berth,  and  covered  him  up.  "  I've  been  learning  some 
great  lessons.  What  you  said  to  me  up  there  among 
the  graves,  has  opened  my  eyes." 

"  Bless  God  for  that !  "  And  in  the  captain's  eyes 
tears  glistened.  "  That's  wonderful  for  me  to  hear,  in 
this  room  where  all  those  relics  of  the  past  —  that  kris 
and  everything  —  can't  help  reminding  me  of  other 
and  worse  days.  A  wonderful,  blessed  thing  to  hear !  " 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  it  is,  gramp,"  said  Hal,  "  and  it's 
every  bit  true.  On  my  honor  as  a  gentleman,  it  is! 
From  to-day  I'm  going  to  stand  on  my  own  feet  and 
be  a  man.  You  don't  know  what  I've  been  doing  al 
ready  to  give  myself  a  start  in  life,  but  if  you  did, 
you'd  be  wonderfully  surprised.  What  I'm  still  going 
to  do  will  certainly  surprise  you  more !  " 

"  Lord  above,  Hal,  but  you're  the  right  stuff  after 
all !  "  exclaimed  Captain  Briggs,  the  tears  now  cours 
ing  freely.  "  Oh,  if  you  could  only  realize  what  all 
this  means  for  me  after  all  the  years  of  sacrifice  and 
hopes  and  fears.  We  came  pretty  nigh  shipwreck  on 
the  reefs,  didn't  we,  boy?  But  it's  all  right.  It's  all 
right  now  at  last!  " 

"  It  surely  is.  And  I'm  certainly  going  to  surprise 
you  and  Laura  and  everybody." 

"  Kneel  down  beside  me,  just  a  minute,  boy,  and 
then  I'll  go  to  sleep  again." 

Hal,  making  a  wry  face  to  himself,  knelt  by  the  bed 
side.  Old  Briggs,  with  one  arm,  drew  him  close.  The 
other  hand  stroked  back  Hal's  thick,  wet  hair  with  a 
touch  that  love  made  gentle  as  a  woman's. 

"  This  is  a  day  of  days  to  me,"  he  whispered.     "  A 


TREACHERY  273 

wonderful  blessed  day !  God  guide  and  keep  you,  for 
ever  and  ever.  Amen !  " 

He  sighed  deeply  and  relaxed.  His  eyes  drooped 
shut.  Hal  pulled  the  blankets  up  and  got  to  his  feet, 
peering  down  with  eyes  of  malice. 

A  moment  he  stood  there  while  the  wind  gusted 
against  the  house,  the  rain  sprayed  along  the  porch, 
and  branches  whipped  the  roof. 

Then,  with  a  smile  of  infernal  triumph,  he  turned. 

"  Cinch !  "  he  muttered,  as  he  left  the  cabin  and  made 
his  way  up-stairs.  "  Why,  it's  like  taking  candy  from 
a  baby.  He'll  sleep  for  hours  now.  But  won't  it  jar 
the  old  geezer  when  his  pipe  goes  out,  to-night?  Just 
won't  it,  though?  " 

With  silent  laughter  Hal  reached  his  room,  where, 
without  delay,  he  started  on  his  final  preparations  for 
events  now  swiftly  impending. 

Over  all  the  heavens  —  a  blind,  gray  face  of  wrath 
—  seemed  peering  down.  But  on  that  face  was  now 
no  laughter. 

Even  for  Vishnu  the  Avenger  some  things  must  be 
too  terrible. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE    DOCTOR    SPEAKS 

Hal  had  been  at  work  five  minutes  when  he  was 
startled  by  a  sharp  knock.  The  door  was  flung  open 
in  no  gentle  manner. 

Dr.  Filhiol,  leaning  on  his  cane,  confronted  him. 
Hal  knew  trouble  lay  dead  ahead.  Standing  there  in 
shirt-sleeves,  with  litter  and  confusion  of  packing  all 
about,  and  two  half -filled  suit-cases  on  a  couple  of 
chairs,  Hal  frowned  angrily. 

"  You've  got  a  nerve  to  butt  in  like  this ! "  he 
growled.  "  What  d'  you  want  now?  " 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you,  sir." 

"  I've  got  no  time  to  waste  on  nonsense !  " 

"  You've  got  time  to  talk  to  me,  and  talk  to  me 
you're  going  to,"  returned  the  doctor.  "  This  is  no 
nonsense."  He  came  in  and  shut  the  door.  The  scent 
of  liquor  met  his  nostrils.  "  A  young  man  who's  been 
responsible  for  the  things  you  have,  has  certainly  got 
time  to  answer  me!  " 

Awed  by  the  physician's  cold  determination,  and 
with  fear  at  heart  —  for  might  not  Filhiol  know  about 
the  stolen  money?  —  Hal  moderated  his  defiance. 
This  old  man  must  be  kept  quiet  for  a  few  hours  yet; 
Hal  must  have  a  few  hours. 

"  You're  assuming  too  much  authority  for  a 
stranger,"  said  Hal,  sullenly.  "  I  never  knew  before 
that  a  gentleman  would  interfere  in  this  way." 

"  Probably  not,  when  dealing  with  a  gentleman,"  re 
torted  Filhiol,  "  but  this  case  is  different.  My  ac- 

274 


THE  DOCTOR  SPEAKS  275 

quaintance  with  your  grandfather  dates  back  more 
than  half  a  century,  and  when  my  duty  requires  me  to 
speak,  no  young  bully  like  you  is  going  to  stop  me. 
No,  you  needn't  double  your  fist,  or  look  daggers, 
because  I'm  not  in  the  least  afraid  of  you,  sir.  And 
I'm  not  going  to  mince  matters  with  you.  What  did 
you  do  with  the  captain's  five  hundred  dollars?  " 

Hal  felt  himself  lost.  He  had  effectually  closed 
Ezra's  mouth,  but  now  here  stood  the  doctor,  accusing 
him.  One  moment  he  had  the  impulse  to  do  murder; 
but  now  that  all  things  were  in  readiness  for  his  flight, 
he  realized  violence  would  be  a  fatal  error.  His  only 
hope  lay  in  diplomacy. 

"  What  five  hundred  dollars?" 

"  You  know  very  well  what  five  hundred !  Come, 
what  did  you  do  with  it?  " 

"  Really,  Dr.  Filhiol,  this  is  a  most  astonishing  ac 
cusation  !  "  said  Hal.  "  /  don't  know  anything  about 
any  five  hundred.  Is  that  amount  gone  ?  " 

"  You  know  very  well  it's  gone !  " 

"  I  know  nothing  of  the  kind!     How  should  I?  " 

"  You  can't  fool  me,  young  man !  "  exclaimed  the 
doctor  hotly.  He  raised  his  cane  in  menace. 

"  Put  that  stick  down,  sir,"  said  Hal  in  a  wicked 
voice.  "  No  man  living  can  threaten  me  with  a  stick 
and  get  way  with  it.  I  tell  you  I  don't  know  anything 
about  the  money!  I've  been  out  of  this  house  for 
some  time,  and  you  and  Ezra  have  been  here.  Now 
you  tell  me  there's  five  hundred  dollars  gone.  By 
God,  if  you  weren't  an  old  man  and  a  guest,  you'd 
eat  your  words  damned  quick!" 

"  I  —  you — "  stammered  the  doctor,  outgeneralled. 

"  I've  wasted  enough  time  on  you  now !  "  Hal  flung 
at  him.  "  It's  time  for  you  to  be  going."  He  gripped 
Filhiol  by  the  wrist  with  a  vise-pressure  that  bruised. 
"  And  one  thing  more,  you !  "  he  growled.  "  You'd 


276  CURSED 

just  better  not  go  stirring  up  gramp  against  me,  or 
accusing  me  to  Ezra.  It  won't  be  healthy  for  you  to 
go  accusing  me  of  what  you  can't  prove,  you  prying 
gray  ferret !  " 

"  Ezra  knows  all  about  it  already !  "  retorted  the 
doctor,  tempted  to  smash  at  that  insolent,  evil  face  with 
his  cane. 

"  Knows  it,  does  he  ?  "  Hal  could  not  repress  a 
start. 

"  Yes,  he  does.  He's  already  sworn  to  a  falsehood 
to  me,  to  save  your  worthless  hide !  " 

"  What  d'you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean  he's  accused  himself  of  the  theft,  you 
scoundrel !  " 

"  Let  him,  then !  If  the  shoe  fits  him,  let  him  put  it 
on!" 

"  Oh,  let  him,  eh?  Yes,  and  let  him  beggar  himself. 
Let  him  try  to  get  his  pitiful  life-savings  back  into  the 
safe  in  time  to  save  you !  A  man  who'll  stand  by  and 
let  a  poor  old  servant,  more  faithful  than  a  dog,  bank 
rupt  himself  to  cover  up  a  sneaking  crime  —  a  man 
who'll  pack  up  and  run  away  — " 

"  I've  had  enough  o'  you ! "  snarled  Hal.  He 
pushed  the  doctor  out  into  the  hall.  "  Ezra's  admitted 
it,  and  gramp  wouldn't  believe  I  did  it,  even  if  he  saw 
the  money  in  my  hand.  Get  out  now,  and  if  you  cross 
my  path  again,  look  out !  " 

The  doctor  met  his  threat  unflinchingly. 

"  Young  man,"  said  he,  "  I  sailed  harder  seas,  in  the 
old  times,  than  any  seas  to-day.  I  sailed  with  your 
grandfather  when  he  was  a  bucko  of  the  old  school, 
and  though  we  didn't  usually  agree  and  once  I  nearly 
shot  him,  I  never  knuckled  under.  Maybe  the  bullet 
that  just  missed  cutting  off  your  grandfather's  life  is 
still  waiting  for  its  billet.  Maybe  that's  part  of  the 
curse  on  you! " 


THE  DOCTOR  SPEAKS  277 

His  eyes  were  cold  steel  as  he  peered  at  the  menac 
ing,  huge  figure  of  Hal. 

"  Be  careful,  sir,"  he  added.  "  Be  very  careful  how 
you  raise  your  hand  against  a  man  like  me !  " 

"  If  I  ever  do  raise  my  hand,  there'll  be  no  more 
threats  of  shooting  left  in  you!"  Hal  flung  at  him. 
\Yith  a  sudden  flare  of  rage  he  pushed  old  Filhiol 
through  the  door  and  turned  the  lock.  The  doctor 
stumbled,  dropped  his  cane  and  fetched  up  against  the 
balustrade  of  the  stairs.  Ashen  and  trembling  he  clung 
there  a  moment.  Then  he  raised  his  shaking  fist  to 
heaven. 

"  Oh,  God,"  he  prayed,  "  God,  give  me  power  to 
stamp  this  viper's  head  before  it  poisons  the  captain 
—  before  it  poisons  Laura  and  old  Ezra  —  the  town, 
the  very  air,  the  world!  God,  give  me  strength  to 
stamp  it  in  the  dust !  " 

Within  the  room  sounded  the  tread  of  Hal,  going, 
coming  as  he  growled  to  himself,  packed  up  his  things 
for  flight. 

"  Aye,  go !  "  thought  the  doctor.  "  Go,  and  devil 
take  you!  Go,  and  if  there's  any  curse,  carry  it  with 
you  to  the  end  of  the  world !  " 

The  doctor  realized  that  nothing  better  than  this 
departure  could  happen.  The  boy  would  undoubt 
edly  come  to  his  end  before  long  in  some  drunken 
brawl.  Sooner  or  later  he  would  meet  his  match; 
would  get  killed,  or  would  do  murder  and  would  finish 
on  the  gallows  or  in  the  chair.  That  over-mastering 
physical  strength,  backed  by  the  arrogance  of  conscious 
power,  could  not  fail  to  ruin  him. 

"  The  world  will  soon  settle  with  you,  Hal  Briggs," 
said  he,  as  he  made  his  way  down-stairs.  "  Soon  set 
tle,  and  for  good.  It  will  break  the  captain's  heart  to 
have  you  go,  but  it  would  break  it  worse  to  have  you 
stay.  This  is  best." 


278  CURSED 

Calmer  now,  he  stopped  a  moment  at  the  cabin  door 
to  assure  himself  Captain  Briggs  was  sleeping. 

"  Lord !  "  he  thought.  "  I  hope  Hal  gets  away  be 
fore  the  old  man  wakes  up.  It  \vill  spare  us  a  ter 
rible  scene  —  a  scene  that  might  cost  the  captain  his 
life!" 

His  eye  caught  a  glint  of  red.  Oddly  enough,  fire 
light,  reflected  from  one  of  the  captain's  brass  instru 
ments,  ticked  just  a  tiny  point  of  crimson  on  the  blade 
of  the  old  kris. 

The  doctor  shuddered  and  passed  on,  failing  to  no 
tice  the  open  window  in  the  room.  He  felt  oppressed 
and  stifling.  Air!  he  must  have  air!  He  got  into  a 
coat  hanging  on  the  rack,  put  on  his  hat  and  limped 
out  upon  the  porch. 

Up  and  down  walked  Dr.  Filhiol  a  few  times,  trying 
to  shake  off  heavy  bodings  of  evil.  A  curious  little 
figure  he  made,  withered,  bent,  but  with  the  fires  of  in 
vincible  determination  burning  in  his  eyes.  The  time 
he  had  passed  at  Snug  Haven  had  brought  back  his 
fighting  spirit.  Dr.  Filhiol  seemed  quite  other  from  the 
meek  and  inoffensive  old  man  who  had  so  short  a  time 
ago  driven  up  to  the  captain's  gate.  Even  the  grip 
of  his  hand  on  his  cane  was  different.  Hal  Briggs 
might  well  look  out  for  him  now,  if  any  turn  of  chance 
should  put  him  into  Filhiol's  power. 

The  doctor  paused  at  last  on  the  sheltered  side  of  the 
porch,  near  the  captain's  windows  and  away  from  that 
side  of  the  house  where  Hal's  room  was  located. 
More  heavily  than  ever  the  rain  was  sheeting  down, 
and  from  the  shore  a  long  thunder  told  of  sea  charges 
broken  against  the  impenetrable  defenses  of  the  rocks. 

All  at  once  the  doctor  saw  a  figure  coming  along  the 
road,  head  down  to  wind  and  rain  —  a  figure  in  a 
mackintosh,  with  a  little  white  hat  drawn  down  over 
thick  hair  —  the  figure  of  a  woman. 


THE  DOCTOR  SPEAKS  279 

Astonished  that  a  woman  should  be  abroad  in  such 
weather,  he  peered  more  closely.  The  woman  came  to 
the  side  gate,  stopped  there,  and,  holding  her  hat  and 
flying  hair  with  one  hand,  looked  anxiously  over  the 
hedge  at  Snug  Haven. 

Then  Dr.  Filhiol  recognized  her. 

"  Laura!     What  the  devil  now?  "  said  he. 

The  doctor  seemed  to  read  her  thought,  that  she  was 
afraid  of  being  seen  by  Hal,  but  that  she  greatly  desired 
speech  of  some  one  else.  With  raised  hand  he  beck 
oned  her;  and  she,  perceiving  him,  came  quickly 
through  the  gate  to  the  porch. 

Wild-tossed  and  disheveled  she  was  with  frightened 
eyes  and  wistful,  pleading  face.  Filhiol's  heart 
yearned  to  her,  filled  with  pity. 

"  You're  Laura,  aren't  you?  "  asked  the  doctor,  tak 
ing  her  hand  and  steadying  her  a  little.  "  Laura 
Maynard?  Yes?  I'm  Dr.  Filhiol,  a  very  old  and 
confidential  friend  of  the  captain's.  What  can  I  do  to 
help  you  ?  " 

"The  captain!"  she  panted,  almost  spent  with  ex 
ertion  and  chill.  "  I've  got  to  —  see  the  captain  right 
away!  " 

"  My  dear,  that's  quite  impossible,"  said  Filhiol, 
drawing  her  more  into  shelter.  "  He's  asleep,  worn 
out  with  exertions  concerning  Hal.  You've  come  to 
see  him  about  Hal.  Yes,  I  thought  so.  Well,  the  cap 
tain  can't  be  disturbed  now,  for  any  reason  whatever. 
But  you  can  tell  me,  Laura.  Perhaps  I  may  do  quite 
as  well." 

She  pondered  a  moment,  then  asked  with  a  strong 
effort :  "  Where  is  Hal  now?  " 

"  Up-stairs.     Do  you  want  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  no !  "  she  shuddered.  "  God  forbid !  But 
—  oh,  doctor,  please  let  me  see  the  captain,  if  only  for 
a  minute! " 


280  CURSED 

"  He's  ill,  I  tell  you,  Laura." 

"  Not  seriously  ?  "  she  asked  with  sudden  anxiety. 

"  Perhaps  not  yet,  but  we  can't  take  any  chances." 

The  girl  took  his  hand  in  a  trembling  clasp. 

"  Don't  let  anything  happen  to  the  captain !  "  she  ex 
claimed,  her  rain-wet  face  very  beautiful  in  its  anxiety. 
"  Oh,  doctor,  he's  the  most  wonderful  old  man  in  the 
world,  the  finest,  the  noblest !  Nothing,  nothing  must 
happen  to  him! " 

"  Nothing  shall,  if  I  can  help  it.  If  I  can  stand  be 
tween  him  and  —  and  — " 

"  And  Hal  ?  "  she  queried.  "  Yes,  I  understand. 
What  a  terrible  curse  to  love  a  man  like  that !  " 

"  The  captain  must  soon  find  it  so,"  said  Filhiol. 
"  Every  one  who  loves  that  boy  has  got  to  suffer 
grievously.  You,  too,  Laura,"  he  added.  "  You 
must  steel  your  heart  to  many  things.  The  captain 
will  soon  need  all  your  strength  and  consolation." 

"  You  know  the  bad  news,  too  ?  " 

"  I  know  much  bad  news.  But  if  you've  got  any 
more,  tell  me !  " 

"  You  know  about  the  fight  he  had  this  afternoon 
and  about  his  buying  Gordon's  boat,  the  Kittiwink  ?  " 

"  No.  Nothing  about  that.  But  I  know  Hal's 
packing  some  things  now  to  make  what  they  call  a 
getaway.  And  — " 

"  And  you're  not  going  to  stop  him  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
girl,  clutching  his  arm.  "  You're  not?  " 

"  Shhh,  my  dear !  "  warned  Filhiol.  "  We  mustn't 
wake  the  captain  in  there!  Stop  Hal?  No,  no! 
Nothing  better  could  happen  than  to  have  him  go  be 
fore  he  does  murder  in  this  town." 

"  He  almost  did  murder  this  afternoon !  He  ran 
into  three  of  McLaughlin's  men  down  at  Hadlock's 
Cove,  and  they  twitted  him  about  apologizing  to  Mc- 
Laughlin.  Then  — " 


THE  DOCTOR  SPEAKS  281 

"  Say  no  more,"  interrupted  the  doctor,  raising  his 
hand.  "  I  understand." 

"  Yes,  doctor,  but  the  news  has  spread,  and  the  rest 
of  the  crew  have  sworn  vengeance  on  Hal.  They'll 
surely  kill  him,  doctor!  " 

"  God  grant  they  may !  "  the  doctor  thought,  but 
what  he  said  was : 

"  The  quicker  he  goes,  then,  the  better." 

"  But  isn't  there  any  way  to  bring  him  to  reason, 
doctor?  To  make  him  like  other  men?  To  save 
him?" 

"  I  see  none,"  Filhiol  answered.  He  pondered  a 
moment  while  the  rain-drums  rolled  their  tattoos  on  the 
roof  of  the  porch  and  the  sea  thundered.  "  The  curse, 
the  real  curse  on  that  boy,  is  his  unbridled  temper,  his 
gorilla-like  strength.  His  strength  has  unsettled  his 
judgment  and  his  will.  Ordinary  men  rely  on  their 
brains,  and  have  to  be  decent.  Hal,  with  those  bat 
tering-ram  fists,  thinks  he  can  smash  down  everything, 
and  win,  like  one  of  Nietzsche's  supermen.  If  some 
thing  could  drain  him  of  strength,  and  weaken  and 
humble  him,  it  might  be  the  salvation  of  him  yet." 

"  God  grant  it  might !  " 

"  You  still  love  him,  girl  ?  "  asked  Filhiol,  tenderly 
as  a  father.  "  In  spite  of  everything?  " 

"  I  love  the  good  in  him,  and  there's  so  wonderfully 
much!" 

"  I  understand,  my  dear.  Just  now,  the  bad  is  all 
predominant.  There's  nothing  to  do  but  let  him  go, 
Laura.  Because — he's  determined  to  go,  at  all  costs. 
Where,  I  don't  know,  or  how." 

"  /  know  how !  "  exclaimed  the  girl.  "  He's  bought 
the  Kittiwink  and  laid  in  supplies.  My  father's  in  the 
boat-brokerage  business,  and  he's  got  word  of  it." 

"  Bought  it?"  interrupted  the  doctor.  "How? 
On  credit?" 


282  CURSED 

"  No,  cash.  He  paid  four  hundred  and  seventy- 
iive  dollars  for  it,  in  bills." 

"He  did?     By  — h-m!" 

"  What  is  it,  doctor  ?  Where  could  Hal  get  all  that 
money  ?  Do  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  know  only  too  well,  my  dear." 

"  Tell  me !  "  she  exclaimed  eagerly,  and  took  him  by 
the  hand. 

So  absorbed  were  they  that  neither  heard  a  slight 
sound  from  the  captain's  window,  like  the  quick  in 
take  of  a  breath.  How  could  they  know  the  old  man 
had  wakened,  had  heard  their  voices;  how  could  they 
know  he  had  arisen,  and,  all  trembling  and  weak,  was 
now  standing  hidden  inside  the  window,  listening  to 
words  that  tore  the  heart  clean  out  of  him? 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

THE    CAPTAIN    SEES 

Anguished  the  captain  listened.     He  heard  Laura, 
question : 

"  Where  did  Hal  get  that  money  ?  Where's  he  go 
ing,  and  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  "  Her  trembling  voice 
echoed  its  woe  in  the  captain's  tortured  soul. 

"  Where  Hal's  going  I  don't  know,  Laura,"  the  doc 
tor  answered,  "  except  it's  evident  he's  planning  to  es 
cape  from  here  for  good.  He  may  be  bound  for  the 
South  Seas  with  some  crazy,  wild  notion  of  a  free-and- 
easy  buccaneering  life.  Hal's  going,  and  it's  evident 
he  doesn't  intend  to  come  back.  The  best  thing  we 
can  do  is  just  let  him  go.  It  seems  hard,  but  there's, 
no  other  way.  As  for  where  he  got  the  money  — 
well  —  Why  not  speak  plainly  to  you  ?  It's  the  best 
way  now." 

"  Tell  me,  then !  " 

Within  his  cabin,  old  Captain  Briggs  clutched  his 
hands  together  in  agony.  But  still  he  held  himself 
that  he  might  stand  there  and  hear  this  revelation  to 
the  end. 

"  I  will  tell  you,  Laura.  The  money  —  there's  only 
one  place  where  it  could  have  come  from." 

"  The  captain?     He  gave  it  to  him?  " 

"  It. came  from  the  captain,  but  not  as  a  gift." 

"  You  —  don't  mean  — " 

"  It's  terribly  hard  to  speak  that  word,  Laura,  isn't 
it?"  pitied  the  old  doctor.  "Yet  the  money's  gone 
from  the  captain's  safe.  Ezra  accuses  himself,  but 

283 


284  CURSED 

that's  mere  nonsense.  Every  finger  of  certainty  points 
to  Hal  Briggs  as  a  thief.  And  not  only  an  or 
dinary  thief,  but  one  who's  taken  advantage  of  every 
bond  of  confidence  and  affection,  most  brutally  to  be 
tray  the  man  who  loves  him  better  than  life  itself!  " 

"  Oh,  you  —  you  can't  mean  that  — " 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't  mean  anything  else.  Hal's  up 
stairs  now,  unless  he's  already  gone.  He's  trying  to 
escape  before  the  captain  wakes  up." 

"  And  you're  not  going  to  stop  him?  " 

"  Never!     You  mustn't,  either!  " 

"  But  this  will  break  the  old  man's  heart  —  the  big 
gest,  most  loving  heart  in  the  world!  This  will  kill 
him!" 

"  Even  that  would  be  less  cruel  than  to  have  Hal 
stay,  and  have  him  torture  the  old  captain." 

"  And  there's  nothing  you  can  do  ?  Nothing  you'll 
let  me  do?  " 

"  There's  nothing  any  one  can  do  now,  but  God. 
And  God  holds  aloof,  these  days. 

For  a  minute  Laura  peered  up  at  him,  letting  the  full 
import  of  his  words  sink  into  her  dazed  brain.  Then, 
sensing  the  tragic  inevitability  of  what  must  be,  she 
turned,  ran  down  the  steps  and  along  the  rain-swept 
path. 

He  dared  not  call  after  her,  to  bid  her  take  no  desper 
ate  measures,  for  fear  of  waking  the  captain  —  the 
captain,  at  that  very  moment  shivering  inside  the  win 
dow,  transfixed  by  spikes  of  suffering  that  nailed  him 
to  his  cross  of  Calvary.  In  silence  he  watched  her, 
storm-driven  like  a  wraith,  grow  dim  through  the  rain 
till  she  vanished  from  his  sight. 

Alone,  Dr.  Filhiol  sank  heavily  into  a  wet  chair. 
There  he  remained,  thinking  deep  and  terrible  things 
that  wring  the  heart  of  man. 

And  the  captain,  what  of  him? 


THE  CAPTAIN  SEES  285 

Dazed,  staggered,  he  groped  toward  the  desk. 
From  the  drawer  he  took  the  slip  of  paper  bearing  the 
combination.  With  an  effort  that  taxed  all  his 
strength  he  opened  the  safe,  opened  the  money-com 
partment.  His  trembling  fingers  caught  up  the  few 
remaining  bills  there. 

"  God  above !  "  he  gulped. 

Then  all  at  once  a  change,  a  swift  metamorphosis  of 
wrath  and  outraged  love  swept  over  him.  He  seemed 
to  freeze  into  a  stern,  avenging  figure,  huge  of  shoul 
der,  hard  of  fist.  The  bulk  of  him  loomed  vast,  in 
that  enfolding  bathrobe  like  a  Roman  patrician's  toga, 
as  he  strode  through  the  door  and  up  the  stairs. 

Silent  and  grim,  he  struck  Hal's  door  with  his  fist. 
The  door  resisted.  One  lunge  of  the  shoulder,  and  the 
lock  burst. 

Hal  stood  there  in  corduroy  t&ousers,  heavy  gray 
reefer  and  oilskin  hat.  Two  strapped  suit-cases  stood 
by  the  bureau.  Over  the  floor,  the  bed,  lay  a  litter  of 
discarded  clothes  and  papers. 

"  What  the  hell !  "  cried  the  thief,  clenching  angry 
fists. 

"  You,  sir !  "  exclaimed  old  Captain  Briggs,  in  a 
voice  the  boy  had  never  yet  heard.  "  Stand  where  you 
are !  I  have  to  speak  with  you !  " 

Not  even  the  effrontery  of  Hal's  bold  eyes  could 
quite  meet  that  blue,  piercing  look.  Had  the  old  man, 
he  wondered,  a  revolver  ?  Was  he  minded  now  to  kill  ? 
In  that  terrible  and  accusing  face,  he  saw  what  Alpheus 
Briggs  had  been  in  the  old,  barbarous  days.  The  brute 
in  him  recognized  the  dormant  passions  of  his  grand 
father,  now  rekindling.  And,  though  he  tried  to  mask 
his  soul,  the  fear  in  it  spied  through  his  glance. 

"  You  snake !  "  the  captain  flung  at  him.  "  You 
lying  Judas!  " 

"  Go  easy  there !  "  Hal  menaced.     That  he  had  been 


CURSED 

drinking  was  obvious.  The  scent  of  liquor  filled  the 
room,  abomination  in  the  old  man's  nostrils.  "  Go 
easy!  I'm  not  taking  any  such  talk  from  any  man, 
even  if  he  is  my  grandfather!  " 

"  You'll  take  all  I  have  to  say,  and  you  can  lay  to 
that,  sir! "  retorted  the  old  man.  Toward  Hal  he  ad 
vanced,  fists  doubled.  The  boy  cast  about  him  for 
some  weapon.  Not  for  all  his  strength  did  he  dare 
stand  against  this  overpowering  old  man. 

Below,  on  the  porch,  the  doctor  had  heard  sounds  of 
war,  and  had  pegged  into  the  hall  at  his  best  speed. 
There  he  met  Ezra,  who  had  just  come  from  the  cabin. 

"  Great  gulls !  The  safe's  open  —  the  cap'n  — 
knows !  Hell's  loose  now !  "  Ezra  gasped. 

He  made  for  the  stairs.  The  doctor  tried  to  clutch 
him  back. 

"  No  use,  Ezra !  Too  late  —  you  can't  stop  it  now 
with  all  that  nonsense  about  your  being  the  thief !  " 

"  Let  me  up  them  stairs,  damn  you !  " 

"  Never !  They've  got  to  settle  this  themselves. 
You'll  only  make  things  worse !  " 

With  an  oath,  a  violent  wrench,  Ezra  tore  himself 
.away,  and  scrambled  up  the  stairs. 

"  Cap'n  Briggs !  Hal !  "  he  shouted,  torn  by  con 
flicting  loves.  "  Wait  on,  both  o'  ye.  7  done  it  — 
nobody  but  me  — " 

"There  now,  how  does  that  strike  you?"  sneered 
Hal,  respited  by  the  shock  of  this  self-accusation  that 
dropped  the  captain's  fists.  "  The  son-of-a-sea-cook 
owns  up  to  it,  himself !  " 

"  Me,  me,  nobody  but  me!  "  vociferated  Ezra,  who 
had  now  reached  the  room.  He  clawed  at  the  captain's 
arm.  "  Not  him,  cap'n!  Me!  " 

"If  that's  true,  Ezra,  how  the  devil  does  Hal,  here, 
-know  what  you're  talking  about,  so  slick?  " 

"  Ezra  lent  me  five  hundred,  when  it  comes  to  that," 


THE  CAPTAIN  SEES  287 

put  in  Hal,  "  and  told  me  it  was  his  savings.  But  I 
see  now  —  he  stole  it,  the  damned,  black-hearted  thief  L 
Didn't  you,  Ezra?  " 

"  Sure,  sure!  Cap'n,  you  listen  to  me  now.  Hal, 
he  never — " 

"  Ezra,"  said  old  Briggs,  holding  his  rage  in  check, 
"  you're  wonderful !  "  He  laid  a  hand  of  affection  on 
the  shoulder  of  the  trembling  old  man.  "  It's  your 
heart  and  soul  that's  speaking  falsehood  —  falsehood 
more  white  and  shining  than  God's  truth.  But  I  can't 
take  your  word,  given  to  shield  this  serpent  we've  been 
nursing  in  our  bosom.  I  know  all  about  everything 
now.  I  know  why  Hal  robbed  me." 

"  Like  hell  you  do !  "  the  boy  blared  out. 

"  Yes,  even  the  name  of  the  very  boat  he's  bought 
with  my  hard-saved  money.  Money  that  was  meant 
to  help  him  up  and  on  again.  It's  no  use  your  lying  to 
me,  Ezra."  He  pointed  a  steady,  accusing  finger. 
"  There's  the  thief,  Ezra,  standing  right  before  you  — 
standing  there  for  the  last  time  he'll  ever  stand  under 
this  roof  of  mine,  so  help  me  God !  " 

"  Cap'n,  cap'n,"  implored  the  old  man  sinking  to  his 
knees,  hands  clasped,  face  streaming  tears.  "  Don't 
say  that !  Oh,  Lord,  don't,  don't  say  that !  " 

"  I  don't  give  a  damn  what  the  old  stiff  says  now," 
sneered  Hal,  picking  up  his  baggage.  His  red  face 
was  brutalized  with  rage  and  drink.  "  Let  him  go  to 
it.  He  said  a  mouthful  when  he  said  I  grabbed  the 
coin.  Sure  I  did  —  and  I'm  only  sorry  it  wasn't  more. 
Wish  I'd  grabbed  it  all !  I'd  like  to  have  cleaned  the 
old  tightwad  for  a  decent  roll,  while  I  was  at  it!  " 

"  Hal !     Master  Hal !  " 

The  doctor,  listening  from  below,  quivered  with, 
rage,  but  held  himself  in  check.  What,  after  all,  could 
his  weak  body  accomplish?  And  as  for  speech,  that 
was  not  needed  now. 


288  CURSED 

"  Get  out  o'  my  way,  the  pair  o'  you,  and  let  me  blow 
out  o'  this  namby-pamby,  Sunday-school  dump ! " 
snarled  Hal,  shouldering  forward.  "  I'm  quitting.  I 
told  you  yesterday  I  was  sick  of  all  this  grandpa's- 
darling  stuff.  If  I  can't  get  out  and  live,  I'll  cash  in 
my  checks.  College  —  apologies  —  white  flannels  — 
urrgh!" 

rlhe  growl  in  his  deep  chest  and  sinewed  throat  was 
that  of  a  wolf.  Silent,  cold,  unmoved  now,  the  old 
captain  studied  him. 

"  None  o'  that  for  mine,  thanks !  "  Hal  threw  at  him 
with  insolence  supreme.  "  Wait  till  I  catch  McLaugh- 
lin !  I'll  apologize  to  him !  Say !  I've  already  apolo 
gized  to  three  of  his  men,  and  Mac  '11  get  it,  triple-ex 
tract.  And  then  I'll  blow.  I've  got  a  classy  boat  that 
can  walk  some,  and  let  'em  try  to  stop  me,  if  they 
want  to.  I'm  not  afraid  of  you,  or  any  man  in  this 
town,  or  in  the  world !  " 

He  dropped  one  of  the  suit-cases,  raised  his  right 
arm  and  swelled  the  formidable  biceps,  glorying  in  the 
brute  power  of  his  arm,  his  trip-hammer  fist. 

"  Afraid?  Not  while  I've  got  this!  Go  ahead  and 
try  to  get  me  arrested,  if  you  think  fit.  It  '11  take 
more  than  Albert  Mills  to  pinch  me,  or  Squire  Bean  to 
hold  me  for  trial  —  it  '11  take  more  than  any  jail  in 
this  town  to  keep  me! 

"  Now  I've  said  all  I'm  going  to,  except  that  I  took 
the  coin.  Yes,  I  took  it.  And  I'll  take  more  wherever 
I  find  it.  Money,  booze,  women  —  I'll  take  'em  all. 
They're  mine,  if  I  can  get  'em.  That's  all.  To  hell 
with  everything  that  stands  in  my  way!  You  two  get 
out  of  it  now  before  I  throw  you  out !  " 

He  brutally  struck  the  kneeling  old  Ezra  down  and 
picked  up  the  suit-cases.  The  captain  quivered  with  the 
strain  of  holding  his  hand  from  slaughter,  and  stood 
aside.  Not  one  word  did  he  speak. 


THE  CAPTAIN  SEES  289 

Hal  blundered  out  into  the  passageway,  and,  pant 
ing  with  rage,  started  to  descend  the  stairs. 

Old  Ezra,  crawling  on  hands  and  knees,  tried  to  fol 
low.  , 

"Hal!  Master  Hal,  come  back!  I  got  money! 
I'll  — I'll  pay!" 

The  captain  lifted  him,  held  him  with  an  arm  of 
steel. 

"  Silence,  Ezra !  Remember,  we're  not  children. 
We're  old  deep-water  sailormen,  you  and  I.  This  is 
mutiny.  The  boy  has  chosen.  It's  all  over." 

Ezra  sank  into  a  chair,  covered  his  face  and  burst 
into  convulsive  sobs,  rocking  himself  to  and  fro  in  the 
excess  of  his  grief. 

Alpheus  Briggs  walked  to  the  top  of  the  stairs,  and 
silently  watched  Hal  descend.  At  the  bottom,  Dr.  Fil- 
hiol  confronted  the  swearing,  murderous  fellow.  He, 
too,  kept  silence.  Only  he  stood  back  a  little,  avoiding 
Hal  as  if  the  very  breath  of  him  were  poison. 

Hal  flung  a  sneer  at  him  with  bared  teeth,  and  paused 
a  moment  at  the  door  leading  into  the  cabin.  A 
thought  came  to  his  brain,  crazed  with  whisky,  rage 
and  the  obscure  hereditary  curse  that  lay  upon  him. 
Something  seemed  whispering  a  command  to  him, 
irrational  enough,  yet  wholly  compelling. 

To  the  fireplace  Hal  strode,  snatched  down  the  kris, 
opened  one  of  the  suit-cases,  and  threw  the  weapon  in. 
He  locked  the  case  again,  and  slouched  out  on  to  the 
piazza,  defiantly  and  viciously. 

"  Might  come  handy,  that  knife,  if  the  fists  didn't 
get  away  with  the  goods,"  he  muttered.  "  Take  it 
along,  anyhow !  " 

The  Airedale,  hearing  Hal's  step,  got  up  and  fawned 
against  him.  Hal,  with  an  obscene  oath,  kicked  the 
animal. 

"  Get  out  o'  my  way,  you  — "  he  growled.     The  dog, 


290  CURSED 

yelping,  still  cringed  after  him  as  he  descended  the 
steps.  Mad  with  the  blind  passion  that  kills,  Hal  flung 
down  his  suit-cases,  snatched  up  the  dog  and  dashed  it 
down  on  the  steps  with  horrible  force. 

"Damn  you,  don't  you  touch  that  dog  again!" 
shouted  old  Dr.  Filhiol,  hobbling  out  the  door. 

He  brandished  his  cane.  In  his  pale  face  flamed 
holy  rage.  With  a  boisterous,  horrible  laugh,  Hal 
snatched  the  cane  from  him,  snapped  it  with  one  flirt 
of  his  huge  hands,  and  threw  the  pieces  into  the  doc 
tor's  face. 

The  dog,  still  crying  out  with  the  pain  of  a  broken 
leg,  tried  to  drag  himself  to  Hal.  Another  oath,  a 
kick,  and  Ruddy  sprawled  along  the  porch. 

"  I've  fixed  you  a  while,  you  fossil  quack !  "  gibed 
Hal  at  the  doctor.  "  Maybe  you'll  butt  in  again  where 
you're  not  wanted!  Lucky  for  you  I'm  in  a  hurry 
now,  or  I'd  do  a  better  job!  " 

Again  Hal  picked  up  his  cases,  and  strode  down  the 
walk,  against  the  rain  and  gale.  At  the  gate  he  paused, 
triumphant. 

"  To  hell  with  this  place !  "  he  cried.  "  To  hell  with 
the  whole  business  and  with  all  o'  you !  " 

Then  he  passed  through  the  gate,  along  the  hedge, 
and  vanished  in  the  boisterous  storm. 

Up  in  Hal's  room,  old  Ezra  was  still  convulsed  with 
senile  grief.  The  captain,  his  face  white  and  lined, 
had  sunk  down  on  the  bed  and  with  vacant  eyes  was 
staring  at  the  books  and  papers  strewn  there  in  con 
fusion. 

All  at  once  his  attention  focused  on  a  sheet  of  paper 
whereon  a  few  words  seemed  vividly  to  stand  out.  He 
advanced  a  shaking  hand,  picked  up  the  paper  and 
read: 

The  curse  must  be  fulfilled,  to  the  last  breath,  for  by 
Shiva  and  the  Trimurthi,  what  is  written  is  written.  But 


THE  CAPTAIN  SEES  291 

if  he  through  whom  the  curse  descended!  on  another  is 
stricken  to  horror  and  to  death,  then  the  Almighty  Vishnu, 
merciful,  closes  that  page.  And  he  who  through  another's 
sin  was  accursed,  is  cleansed.  Thus  may  the  curse  be  ful 
filled.  But  always  one  of  two  must  die.  Tuan  Allah  poonia 
krajah !  It  is  the  work  of  the  Almighty  One !  One  of  two 
must  die ! 

Carefully  the  old  man  read  the  words.  Once  more 
he  read  them.  Then,  with  a  smile  of  strange  compre 
hension  and  great  joy,  he  nodded. 

"  One  of  two  —  one  of  two  must  die !  "  said  he. 
"  Thank  God,  I  understand!  At  last  —  thank  God!  " 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

CAPTAIN    BRIGGS   FINDS   THE   WAY 

The  full  significance  of  the  curse  burning  deep  into 
his  brain,  old  Captain  Briggs  sat  there  on  the  bed  a 
moment  longer,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  slip  of  paper. 
Then,  with  a  new  and  very  strange  expression,  as  of  a 
man  who  suddenly  has  understood,  has  chosen  and  is 
determined,  he  carefully  folded  the  paper  and  thrust  it 
into  the  pocket  of  his  bathrobe.  He  stood  up,  peered 
at  Ezra,  advanced  and  laid  a  hand  upon  the  old  man's 
shoulder. 

"  Ezra,"  said  he  in  a  deep  voice,  "  there's  times  when 
men  have  got  to  be  men,  and  this  is  one  of  'em.  You 
and  I  have  gone  some  pretty  rough  voyages  in  years 
past.  I  don't  recall  that  either  of  us  was  ever  afraid  or 
refused  duty  in  any  wind  or  weather.  We  aren't  going 
to  now.  Whatever's  duty,  that's  what  we're  going  to 
do.  It'll  maybe  lead  me  to  a  terribly  dark  port,  but  if 
that's  where  I've  got  to  go,  as  a  good  seaman,  so  be  it. 

"  And  now,"  he  added  in  another  tone,  "  now  that's 
all  settled,  and  no  more  to  be  said  about  it."  Affec 
tionately  he  patted  the  shoulder  of  the  broken-hearted 
Ezra.  "  Come,  brace  up  now ;  brace  up !  " 

"  Cap'n  Briggs,  sir,"  choked  Ezra,  distraught  with 
grief,  "  you  ain't  goin'  to  believe  what  Master  Hal  said, 
be  you?  He  accused  himself  o'  stealin'  that  there 
money,  to  pertect  me.  It  was  really  me  as  done  it, 
sir,  not  him! " 

"  We  won't  discuss  that  any  more,  Ezra,"  the  captain 

292 


CAPTAIN  BRIGGS  FINDS  THE  WAY     293 

answered,  with  a  smile  of  deep  affection.  "  It  doesn't 
much  signify.  There's  so  much  more  to  all  this  than 
just  one  particular  case  of  theft.  You  don't  under 
stand,  Ezra.  Come  now,  sir;  pull  yourself  together! 
No  more  of  this !  " 

"  But  ain't  you  goin'  to  do  anythin'  to  bring  him 
back,  cap'n?"  asked  the  old  man.  He  got  up  and 
faced  the  captain  with  a  look  of  grief  and  pain. 
"  That  there  boy  of  ourn,  oh,  he  can't  be  let  go  to  the 
devil  this  way !  Ain't  there  nothin'  you  can  do  to  save 
him?" 

"  Yes,  Ezra,  there  is." 

"  Praise  God  f er  that,  cap'n !  You  hadn't  ought  to 
be  too  hard  on  Hal.  You  an'  me,  we're  old,  but  we'd 
oughta  try  an'  understand  a  young  un.  Young  folks 
is  always  stickin'  up  the  circus-bills  along  the  road  o' 
life,  an'  old  uns  is  always  comin'  along  an'  tearin'  'em 
down ;  an'  that  ain't  right,  cap'n.  You  an'  me  has  got 
to  understand !  " 

"  I  understand  perfectly,"  smiled  the  captain,  his 
eyes  steady  and  calm.  "  I  know  exactly  what  I've  got 
to  do." 

"An'  you'll  do  it?"  Ezra's  trembling  eagerness 
was  pitiful.  "  You're  going'  to  do  it,  cap'n?  " 

Alpheus  Briggs  nodded.  His  voice  blended  with  a 
sudden  furious  gust  of  wind  as  he  answered : 

"  I'm  going  to  do  it,  Ezra.     I'm  surely  going  to." 

"  An'  what  is  it?  "  insisted  Ezra.  "  Run  after  him 
an'  bring  him  back?  " 

"  Bring  him  back.     That's  just  it." 

"  Praise  the  Lord !  "  The  old  man's  eyes  were  wet. 
"  When?  When  you  goin'  to  do  it?  " 

"  Very  soon,  now." 

"  You  got  to  hurry,  cap'n.  We  mustn't  let  anythin' 
happen  to  our  Hal.  He's  run  kinda  wild,  mebbe,  but 
he's  everythin'  we  got  to  love.  Ef  you  can  git  him 


294  CURSED 

back  agin,  we'll  be  so  doggone  good  to  him  he'll  hafta 
do  better.  But  you  mustn't  lose  no  time.  Ef  he  gits 
aboard  that  there  Kittiwink  an'  tries  to  make  sail  out 
through  the  Narrers,  he's  like  as  not  to  git  stove  up  on 
Geyser." 

The  captain  smiled  as  he  made  answer: 

"  I  sha'n't  lose  any  unnecessary  time,  Ezra.  But  I 
can't  do  it  all  in  a  moment.  And  you  must  let  me  do 
this  in  my  own  way." 

The  old  man  peered  up  at  him  through  tears. 

"  You  know  best  how  to  chart  this  course,  now." 

"  Yes,  I  believe  I  do.  To  save  that  boy,  I've  got  to 
make  a  journey,  and  I'll  need  a  little  time  to  get  ready. 
But  just  the  minute  I  am  ready,  I'll  go.  You  can  de 
pend  on  that !  " 

"  A  journey  ?     I'll  go  too !  " 

"  No,  Ezra,  this  is  a  journey  I  must  take  all  alone." 

"  Well,  you  know  best,  cap'n,"  the  old  fellow  as 
sented.  "  But  ef  you  need  any  help,  call  on!  " 

"  I  will,  Ezra.  Now  go  to  your  room  and  rest. 
You're  badly  used  up.  There's  nothing  you  can  do  to 
help,  just  now." 

"  But  won't  you  be  wantin'  me  to  pack  y'r  duffel  ? 
An'  rig  Bucephalus  ?  " 

"  When  I  want  you,  I'll  let  you  know,"  smiled 
Briggs.  With  one  hand  still  on  the  old  man's  shoul 
der,  his  other  hand  took  Ezra's  in  a  strong  clasp. 

"  Ezra,"  said  he,  "  you've  always  stood  by,  through 
thick  and  thin,  and  I  know  you  will  now.  You've  been 
the  most  loyal  soul  in  this  whole  world.  No  needle 
ever  pointed  north  half  as  constant  as  you've  pointed 
toward  your  duty  by  Hal  and  me.  You're  a  man, 
Ezra,  a  man  —  and  I'm  not  ashamed  to  say  I  love  you 
for  it!" 

His  grip  tightened  on  the  old  man's  hand.  For  a 
moment  he  looked  square  into  Ezra's  wondering,  half- 


CAPTAIN  BRIGGS  FINDS  THE  WAY     295 

frightened  eyes.     Then  he  loosened  his  grasp,  turned 
and  walked  from  the  room. 

Along  the  hall  he  went,  and  down  the  stairs.  His 
face,  calm,  beatified,  seemed  shining  with  an  inner  light 
that  ennobled  its  patriarchal  features. 

"  Thank  God,"  he  whispered,  "  for  light  to  see  my 
duty,  and  for  strength  to  do  it !  " 

As  he  reached  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  the  front  door 
opened,  and  Dr.  Filhiol  staggered  in,  admitting  a  furi 
ous  gust  of  wind  and  rain.  With  great  difficulty  he 
was  managing  himself,  holding  the  injured  dog. 
Ruddy  was  yelping ;  one  leg  hung  limp  and  useless. 

For  a  tense  moment  the  doctor  confronted  Briggs. 
He  pushed  the  door  shut,  with  rage  and  bitterness. 

"  And  you,  sir,"  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  you  go 
against  my  orders ;  you  leave  your  bed  and  expose  your 
self  to  serious  consequences,  for  the  sake  of  a  beast  — 
who  will  do  a  thing  like  this!  " 

Furiously  he  nodded  downward  at  the  dog. 

The  captain  advanced  and,  with  a  hand  that  trem 
bled,  caressed  the  rough  muzzle. 

"  Hal  ?  "  asked  he,  under  his  breath.     "  This,  too  ?  " 

"Yes,  this!  Nearly  killed  the  poor  creature,  sir! 
Kicked  him.  And  that  wasn't  enough.  When  the 
dog  still  tried  to  follow  him,  grabbed  him  up  and 
dashed  him  down  on  the  steps.  This  leg's  broken. 
Ribs,  too,  I  think.  A  miracle  the  dog  wasn't  killed. 
Your  grandson's  intention  was  to  kill  him,  all  right 
enough,  but  I  guess  he  didn't  want  to  take  time  for 
it !  "  Filhiol's  lips  were  trembling  with  passion,  so 
that  he  could  hardly  articulate.  "  This  is  horrible ! 
Injury  to  a  man  is  bad  enough,  but  a  man  can  defend 
himself,  and  will.  But  injury  to  a  defenseless,  trust 
ing  animal  —  my  God,  sir,  if  I'd  been  anything  but  a 
cripple,  and  if  I'd  had  a  weapon  handy,  I'd  have  had 
your  grandson's  blood,  so  help  me !  " 


296  CURSED 

The  captain  made  no  answer,  but  set  his  teeth  into  his 
bearded  lip.  He  patted  the  dog's  head.  Ruddy  licked 
his  hand. 

"  Well,  sir?"  demanded  Filhiol.  "  What  have  you 
to  say  now  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  Hal's  gone,  and  words  have  no  value. 
Can  you  repair  this  damage?  " 

"  Yes,  if  the  internal  injuries  aren't  too  bad.  But 
that's  not  the  point.  Hal,  there,  goes  scot  free  and  — " 

Alpheus  Briggs  raised  his  hand  for  silence. 

"  Please,  no  more !  "  he  begged.  "  I  can't  stand  it, 
doctor.  You've  got  to  spare  me  now !  " 

Filhiol  looked  at  him  with  understanding. 

"  Forgive  me,"  said  he.  "  But  help  me  with  poor 
old  Ruddy,  here!" 

"  Ezra  can  help  you.  On  a  pinch,  call  in  Dr.  Marsh, 
if  you  like." 

"  Oh,  I  think  my  professional  skill  is  still  adequate  to 
set  a  dog's  leg,"  Filhiol  retorted. 

"  And  you  don't  know  how  grateful  I  am  to  you  for 
doing  it,"  said  the  captain.  "  I'm  grateful,  too,  for 
your  not  insisting  on  any  more  talk  about  Hal.  You're 
good  as  gold!  I  wish  you  knew  how  much  I  thank 
you!" 

The  doctor  growled  something  inarticulate  and 
fondled  the  whimpering  animal.  Alpheus  Briggs 
forced  himself  to  speak  again. 

"  Please  excuse  me  now.  I've  got  something  very 
important  to  do."  His  hand  slid  into  the  pocket  of  his 
bathrobe,  closed  on  the  paper  there,  and  crumpled  it. 
"Will  you  give  me  a  little  time  to  myself?  I  want 
an  hour  or  two  undisturbed." 

The  temptation  was  strong  on  the  captain  to  take  the 
hand  of  Filhiol  and  say  some  words  that  might  per 
haps  serve  as  a  good-by,  but  he  restrained  himself. 
Where  poor  old  Ezra  had  understood  nothing,  Filhiol 


CAPTAIN  BRIGGS  FINDS  THE  WAY     297 

would  very  swiftly  comprehend.  So  Alpheus  Briggs, 
even  in  this  supreme  moment  of  leave-taking,  held  his 
peace. 

The  doctor,  however,  appeared  suddenly  suspicious. 

"  Captain,"  he  asked,  "  before  I  promise  you  the 
privacy  you  ask,  I've  got  one  question  for  you.  Have 
you  overheard  any  of  Hal's  reading  lately,  or  have  you 
seen  any  of  his  translations  from  the  Malay?" 

By  no  slightest  quiver  of  a  muscle  did  the  old  man 
betray  himself. 

"  No,"  he  answered.  "  What  do  you  mean,  doctor? 
Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  That's  something  I  can't  tell  you,"  said  Filhiol, 
thankful  that  no  hint  had  reached  Briggs  concerning 
the  curse.  Swiftly  he  thought.  Yes,  it  would  well 
suit  his  purpose  now  to  get  the  captain  out  of  the  way. 
That  would  give  Filhiol  time  to  run  through  the  litter 
of  papers  in  Hal's  room,  and  to  destroy  the  translation 
that  might  have  such  fatal  consequences  if  it  should 
come  into  the  captain's  hands. 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  said  he.  "  Take  whatever  time 
you  need  to  settle  matters  relative  to  Hal's  leaving. 
By  rights  I  ought  to  order  you  back  to  bed ;  but  I  know 
you  wouldn't  obey  me  now,  anyhow,  so  what's  the  use? 
Only,  be  reasonably  sensible,  captain.  Even  though 
Hal  has  made  a  fearful  mess  of  everything,  your  life 
is  worth  a  very  great  deal  to  lots  of  people !  " 

The  captain  nodded.  Filhiol's  admonitions  sud 
denly  seemed  very  trivial,  just  as  the  world  and  life 
itself  had  all  at  once  become.  Already  these  were  re 
treating  from  his  soul,  leaving  it  alone,  with  the  one 
imperative  of  duty.  At  the  last  page  of  the  book  of 
life,  Alpheus  Briggs  realized  with  swift  insight  how 
slight  the  value  really  was  of  that  poor  volume,  and 
how  gladly  —  when  love  and  duty  bade  him  —  he 
could  forever  close  it. 


298  CURSED 

"  We'll  talk  this  all  over  in  the  morning,  doctor," 
said  he.  "  But  till  then,  no  more  of  it.  I've  got  to  get 
my  bearings  and  answer  my  helm  better  before  I'll 
know  exactly  what  to  do.  You  understand?  " 

"  Yes,  captain,  I  think  I  do,"  answered  the  doctor, 
with  compassion.  He  said  no  more,  but  hobbled  to 
wards  the  kitchen,  there  to  summon  Ezra  and  do  what 
could  be  done  for  Ruddy. 

Thus  Captain  Briggs  was  left  alone.  Alone  with 
the  stern  consummation  of  his  duty,  as  he  saw  it. 


ONE    MUST    DIE 

\ 

Briggs  entered  his  cabin,  and  locked  both  doors; 
then  fastened  the  window  giving  on  the  porch.  He 
went  to  the  fireplace,  overhung  with  all  that  savage 
arsenal,  and  put  a  couple  of  birch-logs  on  the  glowing 
coals. 

He  sat  down  in  his  big  chair  by  the  fire,  pondered  a 
moment  with  the  fireglow  on  his  deep-wrinkled, 
bearded  face,  then  from  the  pocket  of  his  bath-robe 
drew  the  crumpled  bit  of  paper.  Again  he  studied  it, 
reading  it  over  two  or  three  times.  In  a  low  voice  he 
slowly  pronounced  the  words,  as  if  to  grave  them  on 
his  consciousness : 

"  The  curse  must  be  fulfilled,  to  the  last  breath,  for  by 
Shiva  and  the  Trimurthi,  what  is  written  is  written.  But 
if  he  through  whom  the  curse  descended:  on  another  is 
stricken  to  horror  and  to  death,  then  the  Almighty  Vishnu, 
merciful,  closes  that  page.  And  he  who  through  another's 
sin  was  cursed,  is  cleansed.  Thus  may  the  curse  be  ful 
filled.  But  always  one  of  two  must  die.  Tuan  Allah  poonia 
krajah!  It  is  the  work  of  the  Almighty  One!  One  of  two 
must  die!  " 

For  some  minutes  he  pondered  all  this.  Before  him 
rose  visions  —  the  miasmatic  Malay  town ;  the  battle 
in  the  Straits;  the  yellow  and  ghostlike  presence  of 
the  witch-woman,  shrilling  her  curse  at  him ;  the  death 
of  Scurlock  and  the  boy,  of  Mahmud  Baba,  of  Kuala 
Pahang,  of  the  amok  Malay  who,  shot  through  the 
spine  and  half  paralyzed,  still  had  writhed  forward, 
horribly,  to  kill. 

299 


r30o  CURSED 

"  No  wonder  the  curse  has  followed  me,"  murmured 
the  old  man.  "  I  haven't  suffered  yet  as  any  one  would 
have  to  suffer  to  pay  for  all  that.  For  all  that,  and 
so  much  more  —  God,  how  much  more !  It's  justice, 
that's  all;  and  who  can  complain  about  justice?  Poor 
Hal,  poor  boy  of  mine !  Na  justice  about  his  having  to 
bear  it,  is  there  ?  Why  should  he  suffer  for  what  /  did 
fifty  years  ago  ?  Thank  God !  Oh,  thank  God !  "  he 
exclaimed  with  passionate  fervor,  "  that  I  can  pay  it 
all,  and  make  him  free !  " 

He  relapsed  into  silence  a  little  while,  his  face  not 
at  all  marked  with  grief  or  pain,  but  haloed  with  a 
high  and  steadfast  calm.  The  drumming  rain  on  the 
porch  roof,  the  shuddering  impact  of  the  wind  as  the 
storm  set  its  shoulders  against  Snug  Haven,  saddened 
him  with  thoughts  of  the  fugitive,  bearing  the  curse 
that  was  not  his,  out  there  somewhere  in  the  tumult  and 
the  on-drawing  night,  trying  to  flee  the  whips  of  atav 
ism.  But  through  that  sadness  rose  happier  thoughts. 

"  It's  only  for  a  little  while  now,"  said  the  captain. 
"  The  curse  is  nearly  ended.  When  I've  paid  the 
score,  it  will  lift,  and  he'll  come  back  again.  Poor  Hal 
—  how  little  he  knew,  when  he  was  writing  this  paper, 
that  he  was  giving  me  the  chart  to  steer  my  right 
course!  If  the  hand  of  some  divine  Providence  isn't 
in  this,  then  there's  no  Providence  to  rule  this  world !  " 

Another  thought  struck  him.  Hal  knew  nothing  of 
the  fact  that  his  grandfather  had  found  the  curse.  He 
must  never  know.  In  the  life  of  better  things  that 
soon  was  to  open  out  for  him,  no  embittering  self- 
accusation  must  intrude.  All  proof  must  be  destroyed. 

Captain  Briggs  tossed  the  curse  of  Dengan  Jouga 
into  the  flames  just  beginning  to  flicker  upward  from 
the  curling  birch-bark.  The  paper  browned  and  puffed 
into  flame.  It  shriveled  to  a  crisp  black  shell,  on 
which,  for  a  moment  or  two,  the  writing  glowed  in 


"  ONE  MUST  DIE  "  301 

angry  lines  of  crimson.  Captain  Briggs  caught  one 
last  glimpse  of  a  word  or  two,  grotesquely  distorted  — 
"  The  curse  —  horror  and  death  —  one  —  must  die  — " 

Despite  himself  he  shuddered.  The  hate  and  malice 
of  the  old  witch-woman  seemed  visibly  glaring  out  at 
him  from  the  flames,  after  half  a  century.  From  the 
other  side  of  the  world,  even  from  "  beyond  the  Silken 
Sea,"  words  of  vengeance  blinked  at  him,  then  sud 
denly  vanished;  and  with  a  gust  of  the  storm-wind,  up 
the  chimney  whirled  the  feather  bit  of  ash.  The  cap 
tain  drew  his  bath  robe  a  little  closer  round  him,  and 
glanced  behind  him  into  the  dark  corners  of  the  cabin. 

"This  —  is  very  strange!"  he  whispered. 

Still  he  sat  pondering.  Especially  he  recalled  the 
Malay  he  had  shot  through  the  spine.  That  lithe, 
strong  man,  suddenly  paralyzed  into  a  thing  half  dead 
and  yet  alive,  was  particularly  horrible  to  remember. 
Helplessness,  death  that  still  did  not  die.  .  .  . 

A  spark  snapped  out  upon  the  floor.  He  set  his 
foot  on  it. 

"  That's  the  only  way  to  deal  with  evil,"  said  he. 
"Stamp  it  out!  And  if  we're  the  evil  ourselves,  if 
we're  the  spark  of  devil-fire,  out  we  must  go!  What 
misery  I  could  have  saved  for  Hal,  if  I'd  understood 
before  —  and  what  a  cheap  price  \  An  old,  used-up 
life  for  a  new,  strong,  fresh  one." 

His  mind,  seeking  what  way  of  death  would  be  most 
fitting,  reverted  to  the  poisoned  kris,  symbol  of  the  evil 
he  had  done  and  of  the  old,  terrible  days.  He  peered 
up  at  the  mantelpiece ;  but,  look  as  he  would,  failed  to 
discover  the  kris.  He  rose  to  his  feet,  and  explored 
the  brickwork  with  his  hands  in  the  half-light  reflected 
from  the  fire.  Nothing  there.  The  hooks,  empty, 
showed  where  the  Malay  blade  had  been  taken  down, 
but  of  the  blade  itself  no  trace  remained. 

The  old  captain  shivered,  amazed  and  wondering. 


302  CURSED 

In  this  event  there  seemed  more  than  the  hand  of  mere 
coincidence.  Hal  was  gone;  the  kris  had  vanished. 
The  captain  could  not  keep  cold  tentacles  of  fear  from 
reaching  for  his  heart.  To  him  it  seemed  as  if  he 
could  almost  see  the  eyeless  face  looming  above  him, 
could  almost  hear  the  implacable  mockery  of  its  far, 
mirthless  laughter. 

"  God !  "  he  whispered.  "  This  won't  do !  I  —  I'll 
lose  my  nerve  if  I  keep  on  this  way,  and  nerve  is  what 
I've  got  to  have  now  !  " 

Why  had  Hal  taken  that  knife?  What  wild  notion 
had  inspired  the  boy?  Alpheus  Briggs  could  not  im 
agine.  But  something  predestined,  terrible,  seemed 
closing  in.  The  captain  felt  the  urge  of  swift  meas 
ures.  If  Hal  were  to  be  rescued,  it  must  be  at  once. 

Turning  from  the  fireplace  of  such  evil  associations, 
he  lighted  the  ship's  lamp  that  hung  above  it.  He  sat 
down  at  the  desk,  opened  a  drawer  and  took  out  two 
photographs.  These  he  studied  a  few  minutes,  with 
the  lamp-light  on  his  white  hair,  his  venerable  beard, 
his  heavy  features.  Closely  he  inspected  the  photo 
graphs. 

One  was  a  group,  showing  himself  with  the  family 
that  once  had  been,  but  now  had  almost  ceased  to  be. 
The  other  was  a  portrait  of  Hal.  Carefully  the  old 
man  observed  this  picture,  taken  but  a  year  ago,  noting 
the  fine,  broad  forehead,  the  powerful  shoulders,  the 
strength  of  the  face  that  looked  out  so  frankly  at  him. 
For  the  first  time  he  perceived  a  quality  in  this  face  he 
had  never  seen  before  —  the  undertone  of  arrogant 
power,  born  of  unbeaten  physical  strength. 

The  captain  shook  his  head  with  infinite  sadness. 

"  That's  the  real  curse  that  lay  on  me,"  he  mur 
mured.  "  That's  what  I've  got  to  pay  for  now.  Well, 
so  be  it." 

He  kissed  both  pictures  tenderly,  and  put  them  back 


"  ONE  MUST  DIE  "  303 

into  the  drawer.  From  it  he  took  a  box,  and  from  the 
box  a  revolver  —  an  old  revolver,  the  very  same  that 
he  had  carried  in  the  Silver  Fleece  fifty  long  years  ago. 

"  You've  done  very  great  evil,"  said  Alpheus  Briggs 
slowly.  "  Now  you're  going  to  pay  for  it  by  doing 
at  least  one  good  act.  That's  justice.  God  is  being 
very  good  to  me,  showing  me  the  way." 

He  broke  open  the  revolver,  spun  the  cylinder  and 
snapped  the  hammer  two  or  three  times. 

"  It's  all  right,"  judged  he.  "  This  is  an  important 
job.  It  mustn't  be  made  a  mess  of." 

He  looked  for  and  found  a  few  cartridges,  and  care 
fully  loaded  the  weapon,  then  snapped  it  shut,  and  laid 
it  on  the  desk.  The  sound  of  Dr.  Filhiol,  coming  with 
another  cane  along  the  hall,  caused  him  to  slide  the  gun 
into  the  drawer.  Filhiol  knocked  at  the  door,  and 
Briggs  arose  to  open  it.  He  showed  no  signs  of  per 
turbation.  A  calm  serenity  glowed  in  his  eyes. 

"  Isn't  it  time  you  got  your  writing  finished  and 
went  to  bed?  "  the  doctor  demanded  tartly. 

"  Almost  time.  I'm  just  finishing  up.  I  sha'n't  be 
long  now.  Tell  me,  how's  Ruddy?  " 

"  We've  made  a  fair  job  of  it,  and  Ezra's  gone  to 
his  room.  He's  taking  everything  terribly  to  heart. 
Anything  I  can  do  for  you?  " 

"  Nothing,  thank  you.     Good  night." 

The  captain's  hand  enfolded  Filhiol's.  Neither  by 
any  undue  pressure  nor  by  word  did  he  give  the  doctor 
any  hint  of  the  fact  that  this  good-by  was  final.  The 
old  doctor  turned  and  very  wearily  stumped  away  up 
stairs.  Briggs  turned  back  into  his  cabin. 

"  A  good,  true  friend."  said  he.  "  Another  one  I'm 
sorry  to  leave,  just  as  I'm  sorry  to  leave  the  girl  and 
Ezra.  But  —  well  — " 

At  his  task  once  more,  he  fetched  from  the  safe  his 
black  metal  cash-box,  and  set  himself  to  looking  over  a 


304  CURSED 

few  deeds,  mortgages  and  other  papers,  making  sure 
that  all  was  in  order  for  the  welfare  of  Hal.  He  re 
read  his  will,  assuring  himself  that  nothing  could  pre 
vent  Hal  from  coming  into  the  property,  and  also  that  a 
bequest  to  Ezra  was  in  correct  form.  This  done,  he 
replaced  the  papers  in  the  safe. 

On  his  desk  a  little  clock  was  ticking,  each  motion 
of  its  balance-wheel  bringing  nearer  the  tragedy  im 
pending.  The  captain  glanced  at  it. 

"  Getting  late,"  said  he.  "  Only  one  more  thing  to 
do  now,  and  then  I'm  ready." 

He  set  himself  to  write  a  letter  that  should  make  all 
things  clear  to  Hal.  But  first  he  brought  out  the  re 
volver  once  more,  and  laid  it  on  the  desk  as  a  kind  of 
memento  mori,  lest  in  the  writing  his  soul  should 
weaken. 

The  lamp,  shining  down  upon  the  old  man's  gnarled 
fingers  as  they  painfully  traced  the  words  of  explana 
tion  and  farewell,  also  struck  high-lights  from  the  re 
volver. 

The  captain's  eyes,  now  and  then  leaving  the  written 
pages  as  he  paused  to  think,  rested  upon  the  gun.  At 
sight  of  it  he  smiled;  and  once  he  reached  out,  caressed 
it  and  smiled. 


CHAPTER  XL 

ON    THE    K1TTIW1NK 

When  Hal  left  Snug  Haven,  he  bent  his  shoulders  to 
the  storm  and  with  his  suit-cases  plowed  through  the 
gathering  dusk  toward  Hadlock's  Cove. 

Cold,  slashing  rain  and  boistering  gusts  left  his 
wrath  uncooled.  Ugly,  brutalized,  he  kept  his  way 
past  the  smithy  —  past  Laura's  house,  and  so  with 
glowering  eyes  on  into  the  evening  that  caught  and  rav 
ened  at  him. 

The  sight  of  Laura's  house  filled  him  with  an  access 
of  rage.  That  calm  security  of  shaded  windows  be 
hind  the  rain-scourged  hedge  seemed  to  typify  the  girl's 
protection  against  him.  He  twisted  his  mouth  into  an 
ugly  grin. 

"  Think  you're  safe,  don't  you?  "  he  growled,  paus 
ing  a  moment  to  glower  at  the  house.  "  Think  I  can't 
get  you,  eh  ?  I  haven't  even  begun  yet !  " 

In  the  turmoil  of  his  mind,  no  clear  plan  had  as  yet 
taken  form.  He  knew  only  that  he  had  a  boat  and  full 
supplies,  that  from  him  the  ocean  held  no  secrets,  that 
his  muscles  and  his  will  had  never  yet  known  defeat, 
and  that  the  girl  was  his  if  he  could  take  her. 

"  She'll  turn  me  down  cold  and  get  away  with  it, 
will  she?  "  he  snarled.  "  She  will  —  like  h*H  \  " 

Forward  he  pushed  again,  meeting  no  one,  and  so 
passed  Geyser  Rock,  now  booming  under  the  charges 
of  the  surf.  He  skirted  a  patch  of  woods,  flailed  by 
the  wind,  and  beyond  this  turned  through  a  stone  wall. 
to  follow  a  path  that  led  down  to  the  cove.  On  either 
side  of  the  path  stretched  a  rolling  field,  rich  with  tall 

305 


306  CURSED 

grasses,  with  daisies,  buttercups,  milfoil  and  devil's 
paint-brush,  drenched  and  beaten  down  in  the  dusk  by 
the  sweep  of  the  storm. 

Louder  and  more  loud  rose,  fell,  the  thunders  of  the 
sea,  as  Hal  approached  the  rocky  dune  at  the  far  side  of 
the  field  —  a  dune  that  on  its  other  edge  sank  to  a 
shingle  beach  that  bordered  the  cove. 

To  eastward,  this  beach  consolidated  itself  into  the 
rocky  headland  of  Barberry  Point,  around  which  the 
breakers  were  curving  to  hurl  themselves  on  the  shin 
gle.  The  wind,  however,  was  at  this  point  almost  par 
allel  with  the  shore.  Hal  reckoned,  as  he  tramped 
across  the  field,  that  with  good  judgment  and  stiff  work 
he  could  get  the  Kittiwink  to  sea  at  once. 

And  after  that,  what?  He  did  not  know.  No 
definite  idea  existed  in  that  half-crazed,  passion- 
scourged  brain.  The  driving  power  of  his  strength 
accursed,  took  no  heed  of  anything  but  flight.  Away, 
away,  only  to  be  away ! 

"  God !  "  he  panted,  stumbling  up  the  dune  to  its  top, 
where  salt  spray  and  stinging  rain  skirled  upon  him  in 
skittering  drives.  He  dropped  his  burdens,  and  flung 
out  both  huge  arms  toward  the  dark,  tumbling  void  of 
waters,  streaked  with  crawling  lines  of  white.  "  God! 
that's  what  I  want !  That's  what  they're  trying  to  keep 
me  away  from !  I'm  going  to  have  it  now  —  by  God, 
lam!" 

He  stood  there  a  moment,  his  oilskin  hat  slapping 
about  his  face.  At  his  right,  three  hundred  yards  away 
or  so,  he  could  just  glimpse  the  dark  outlines  of  Jim 
Gordon's  little  store  that  supplied  rough  needs  of  lob- 
stermen  and  fishers.  Hal's  lip  curled  with  scorn  of 
the  men  he  knew  were  gathered  in  that  dingy,  smoky 
place,  swapping  yarns  and  smoking  pipes.  They  pre 
ferred  that  to  the  freedom  of  the  night,  the  storm,  the 
sea !  At  them  he  shook  his  fist. 


ON  THE  KITTIWINK  307 

"  There's  not  one  of  you  that's  half  the  man  I  am !  " 
he  shouted.  "  You  sit  in  there  and  run  me  down.  I 
know !  You're  doing  it  now  —  telling  how  gramp  had 
to  pay  because  I  licked  a  bully,  and  how  I've  got  to 
apologize!  But  you  don't  dare  come  out  into  a  night 
like  this.  I  can  outsail  you  and  outfight  you  all  —  and 
to  hell  with  you !  " 

His  rage  somehow  a  little  eased,  he  turned  to  the  task 
immediately  confronting  him.  The  beach  sloped 
sharply  to  the  surf.  A  litter  of  driftwood,  kelp  and 
mulched  rubbish  wyas  swirling  back  and  forth  among 
the  churning  pebbles  that  with  each  refluent  wave  went 
clattering  down  in  a  mad  chorus.  Here,  there,  drawn 
up  out  of  harm's  way,  lay  lobster-pots  and  dories. 
Just  visible  as  a  white  blur  tossing  on  the  obscure 
waters,  the  Kittkvitik  rode  at  her  buoy. 

"  Great  little  boat !  "  cried  Hal.  A  vast  longing 
swept  over  him  to  be  aboard,  and  away.  The  sea  was 
calling  his  youth,  strength,  daring. 

Laura?  And  would  he  go  without  the  girl?  Yes. 
Sometime,  soon  perhaps,  he  would  come  back,  would 
seize  her,  carry  her  away;  but  for  now  that  plan  had 
grown  as  vaguely  formless  as  his  destination.  Fumes 
of  liquor  in  his  brain,  of  passion  in  his  heart,  blent  with 
the  roaring  confusion  of  the  tempest.  All  was  con 
fusion,  all  a  kind  of  wild  and  orgiastic  dream,  culmina 
tion  of  heredity,  of  a  spirit  run  amok. 

Night,  storm  and  wind  shouted  to  the  savage  in  this 
man.  And,  standing  erect  there  in  the  dark,  arms  up 
to  fleeing  cloud  and  ravening  gale,  he  howled  back  with 
mad  laughter : 

"  Coming  now !     By  God,  I'm  coming  now !  " 

There  was  foam  on  his  lips  as  he  strode  down  the 
beach,  flung  the  suit-cases  into  a  dory  —  and  with  a 
run  and  a  huge-shouldered  shove  across  the  shingle 
fairly  flung  the  boat  into  the  surf. 


308  CURSED 

Waist-deep  in  chilling  smothers  of  brine,  he  floun 
dered,  dragged  himself  into  the  dory  that  shipped 
heavy  seas,  and  flung  the  oars  on  to  the  thole-pins. 
He  steadied  her  nose  into  the  surf,  and  with  a  few 
strong  pulls  got  her  through  the  tumble.  A  matter  of 
two  or  three  minutes,  with  such  strength  as  lay  in  his 
arms  of  steel,  brought  him  to  the  lee  of  the  Kittiwink's 
stern.  He  hove  the  suit-cases  to  the  deck  of  the  danc 
ing  craft,  then  scrambled  aboard  and  made  the  painter 
fast. 

Again  he  laughed,  exultingly.  Now  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  his  will  could  be  made  law.  Now  he 
stood  on  his  own  deck,  with  plenty  of  supplies  below, 
and  —  above,  about  him  —  the  unlimited  power  of  the 
gale  to  drive  him  any  whither  he  should  choose. 

He  strode  to  the  companionway,  his  feet  sure  on  the 
swaying  deck,  his  body  lithely  meeting  every  plunge, 
and  slid  back  the  hatch-cover.  Down  into  the  cabin 
he  pitched  the  cases  and  followed  them.  He  struck  a 
match.  It  died.  He  cursed  bitterly,  tried  again,  and 
lighted  the  cabin-lamp.  His  eyes,  with  the  affection 
of  ownership,  roved  around  the  little  place,  taking  in 
the  berths,  the  folding-table,  the  stools.  He  threw  the 
suit-cases  into  a  berth,  opened  one  and  took  out  a 
square-face,  which  he  uncorked  and  tipped  high. 

"Ah!"  he  sighed.  "Some  class!"  He  set  the 
bottle  in  the  rack  and  breathed  deeply.  "  Nice  little 
berths,  eh?  Laura  —  she'd  look  fine  here.  She'd  fit 
great,  as  crew.  And  if  she  gave  me  any  of  her  lip, 
then—" 

His  fist,  doubled,  swayed  under  the  lamp-shine  as  he 
surveyed  it  proudly. 

"Great  little  boat,"  judged  Hal.  "She'll  outsail 
'em  all,  and  I'm  the  boy  to  make  her  walk!  " 

Huge,  heavy,  evil-faced,  he  stood  there,  swaying  as 
the  Kittiwink  rode  the  swells.  He  cast  open  his  reefer, 


ON  THE  KITTIWINK  309 

took  out  pipe  and  tobacco,  and  lighted  up.  As  he 
sucked  at  the  stem,  his  hard  lips,  corded  throat  and 
great  jaws  gave  an  impression  of  brutal  power,  in  no 
wise  differing  from  that  of  old  Alpheus  Briggs,  half  a 
hundred  years  ago. 

"  Make  me  go  to  school  and  wear  a  blue  ribbon," 
he  gibed,  his  voice  a  contrabass  to  the  shrilling  of  the 
wind  aloft  in  the  rig,  the  groaning  and  creaking  of  the 
timbers.  "  Make  me  go  round  apologizing  to  drunken 
bums.  Like  —  hell !  " 

A  gleam  of  metal  from  the  opened  suitcase  attracted 
his  eyes.  He  took  up  the  kris,  and  with  vast  approval 
studied  it.  The  feel  of  the  lotus-bud  handle  seemed 
grateful  to  his  palm.  Its  balance  joyed  him.  .The 
keen,  wavy  blade,  maculated  with  the  rust  of  blood  and 
brine,  and  with  the  groove  where  lay  another  stain 
whose  meaning  he  knew  not,  held  for  him  a  singular 
fascination.  Back,  forth  he  slashed  the  weapon,  whis 
tling  it  through  the  air,  flashing  it  under  the  lamp-light. 

"  Fine ! "  he  approved,  with  thickened  speech. 
"  Glad  I  got  it  —  might  come  handy  in  a  pinch,  what?  " 

He  stopped  swinging  the  kris,  and  once  more  ob 
served  it,  more  closely  still.  Tentatively  he  ran  his 
thumb  along  the  edge,  testing  it,  then  scratched  with 
some  inchoate  curiosity  at  the  poison  crystallized  in  the 
groove. 

"  Wonder  what  that  stuff  is,  anyhow  ?  "  said  he. 
"  Doesn't  look  like  the  rest.  Maybe  it's  the  blood  of 
some  P.  I.,  like  McLaughlin.  That  ought  to  make  a 
dirty-looking  stain,  same  as  this.  Maybe  it  will,  some 
of  these  days,  if  he  crosses  my  bows.  Maybe  it  will 
at  that!" 


CHAPTER  XLI 

FATE   STRIKES 

Hal  tossed  the  kris  into  the  berth,  and  was  just  about 
to  reach  for  the  bottle  again  when  a  thump-thuinp- 
thumping  along  the  hull  startled  his  attention. 

"  What  the  devil's  that,  now  ?  "  he  growled,  stiffen 
ing.  The  sound  of  voices,  then  a  scramble  of  feet  on 
deck,  flung  him  toward  the  companion-ladder. 
"Who's  there?" 

"  He's  here,  boys,  all  right !  "  exulted  a  voice  above. 
"  We  got  him  this  time,  the  — " 

Have  you  seen  a  bulldog  bristle  to  the  attack  with 
bared  teeth  and  throaty  growl  ?  So,  now,  Hal  Briggs. 

"  Got  me,  have  you?  "  he  flung  up  at  the  invaders. 
"  More  o'  that  rotten  gurry-bucket's  crew,  eh?  More 
o'  Bucko  McLaughlin's  plug-uglies !  " 

"  Easy  there,"  sounded  a  caution,  as  if  holding  some 
one  back  from  advancing  on  Hal.  "  He's  mebbe  got 
a  gun." 

"T  hell  wid  it!"  shouted  another.  "  He  ain't 
gonna  lambaste  half  our  crew  an'  the  ole  man,  an'  git 
away  wid  it!  Come  on,  if  there's  one  o'  ye  wid  the 
guts  of  a  man.  We'll  rush  the  son  of  a  pup !  " 

Heavy  sea-boots  appeared  on  the  ladder.  Hal 
leaped,  grabbed,  flung  his  muscles  into  a  backward  haul 
—  and  before  the  first  attacker  realized  what  had  hap 
pened,  he  landed  on  his  back.  One  pile-driver  fist 
to  the  jaw,  and  the  invader  quivered  into  oblivion, 
blood  welling  from  a  lip  split  to  the  teeth. 

"  There's  one  o'  you !  "  shouted  Hal.  "  One  more !  " 

310 


FATE  STRIKES  311 

He  laughed  uproariously,  half  drunk  with  alcohol, 
wholly  drunk  with  the  strong  waters  of  battle. 
"  Looks  like  I'd  have  to  make  a  job  of  it,  and  clean  the 
bunch !  Who's  next  ?  " 

Only  silence  answered  a  moment.  This  swift  at 
tack  and  sudden  loss  seemed  to  have  disconcerted  Mac's 
men.  Hal  kicked  the  fallen  enemy  into  a  corner,  and 
faced  the  companionway.  His  strategic  position,  he 
realized,  was  almost  impregnable.  Only  a  madman 
would  have  ventured  up  to  that  narrow  and  slippery 
deck  in  the  night,  with  an  undetermined  number  of  men 
armed,  perhaps,  with  murderous  weapons,  awaiting 
him.  Hal  was  no  madman.  A  steady  fighter,  he, 
and  of  good  generalship.  In  his  heart  he  meant,  as 
he  stood  there,  to  kill  or  cripple  every  one  of  those  now 
arrayed  against  him.  He  dared  take  no  chances. 
Tense  as  a  taut  spring,  he  crouched  and  waited. 

Then  as  he  heard  whisperings,  furious  gusts  of  mum 
bled  words,  oaths  at  the  very  top  of  the  companion,  an 
idea  took  him.  He  snatched  up  the  unconscious  man, 
thrust  him  up  the  ladder  and  struggled  behind  him  with 
titanic  force.  His  legs,  massive  pillars,  braced  them 
selves  against  the  sides  of  the  companion.  Like  a  bat 
tle-ax  he  swung  the  vanquished  enemy,  beating  about 
him  with  this  human  flail.  With  fortune,  might  he  not 
sweep  one  or  two  assailants  off  into  the  running  seas? 

He  saw  vague  forms,  felt  the  impact  of  blows,  as 
his  weapon  struck.  Came  a  rush.  Overborne,  he  fell 
backward  to  the  floor.  Up  he  leaped,  as  feet  clattered 
down  the  ladder,  and  snatched  the  kris. 

But  he  could  not  drive  it  home  in  the  bulky,  dark 
form  leaping  down  at  him.  For,  lightning-swift,  sin 
ewed  arms  of  another  man  behind  him  whipped  round 
his  neck,  jerked  his  head  back,  bore  him  downward. 

He  realized  that  he  was  lost.  He  had  forgotten  the 
forward  hatch,  opening  down  into  the  galley';  he  had 


312  CURSED 

forgotten  the  little  passageway  behind  him.  Now  one 
of  McLaughlin's  men,  familiar  with  the  build  of  the 
Kittiurink,  had  got  a  strangling  grip  on  him.  A  wild 
yell  of  triumph  racketed  through  the  cabin,  as  three 
more  men  dropped  into  that  little  space. 

Hal  knew  he  must  use  strategy.  Backward  he  fell ; 
and  as  he  fell,  he  twisted.  His  right  hand  still  held 
the  kris;  his  left  got  a  grip  on  the  other's  throat. 

That  other  man  immediately  grew  dumb,  and  ceased 
to  breathe,  as  the  terrible  fingers  closed.  Volleys  of 
blows  and  kicks  rained  on  Hal  ineffectively.  Still  the 
fingers  tightened ;  the  man's  face  grew  horribly  dusky, 
slaty-blue  under  the  lamp-light,  while  his  tongue  pro 
truded  and  his  staring  eyes  injected  themselves  with 
blood. 

The  arm  round  Hal's  neck  loosened,  fell  limp.  Hal 
flung  the  man  from  him,  groveled  up  under  the  cross- 
cutting  slash  of  blows,  and  bored  in. 

The  crash  of  a  stool  on  his  right  wrist  numbed  his 
arm  to  the  elbow ;  the  stool,  shattered,  fell  apart,  and 
one  leg  made  smithereens  of  the  lamp-globe.  The 
smoky  flare  redly  lighted  a  horrible,  fantastic  war. 
Hal  fought  to  snatch  up  the  knife  again;  the  others  to 
keep  him  from  it,  to  trample  him,  bash  him  in,  smear 
his  brains  and  blood  on  the  floor.  Scientific  fighting 
went  to  pot.  This  was  just  jungle  war,  the  war  of 
gouge  and  bite,  confused,  unreal. 

All  the  boy  knew  was  that  he  swayed,  bent  and  re 
covered  in  the  midst  of  terrible  blows,  and  that  one  arm 
would  not  serve  him.  The  other  fist  landed  here, 
there ;  and  now  it  had  grown  red,  though  whether  from 
its  own  blood  or  from  the  wounds  of  foemen,  who 
could  tell?  Strange  fires  spangled  outward  before 
Hal's  eyes ;  he  tasted  blood,  and,  clacking  his  jaws, 
set  his  teeth  into  a  hand  and  through  it. 

Something   wrenched,    cracked    dully.     Blasphemy 


FATE  STRIKES  313 

howled  through  the  smoky  air,  voicing  the  anguish  of 
a  broken  arm.  A  rolling,  swaying,  tumbling  mass,  the 
men  trampled  the  fallen  one,  pulping  his  face.  Broken 
glass  gritted  under  hammering  bootheels,  as  the  shards 
of  lamp-chimney  were  ground  fine. 

Back,  forth,  strained  the  fighters,  with  each  heave 
and  wallow  of  the  boat.  The  floor  grew  slippery. 
The  folding-table,  torn  from  its  hinges,  collapsed  into 
kindling;  and  one  of  these  sticks,  aimed  at  Hal's  head, 
missed  him,  but  struck  the  square-face. 

Liquor  gurgled  down;  the  smell  of  whisky  added  its 
fetor  to  the  stench  of  oil,  bilge,  sweat  and  blood.  The 
floor  grew  slippery,  and  crimson  splashes  blotched  the 
cabin  walls. 

"  Kill  —  the  son  —  of  — "  strainingly  grunted  some 
one. 

Hal  choked  out  a  gasping,  husky  laugh.  Only  one 
eye  was  doing  duty  now ;  but  that  one  still  knew  the 
kris  was  lying  in  the  corner  by  the  starboard  berth. 

He  tugged,  bucked,  burst  through,  fell  on  the  kris, 
grappled  its  knob  and  writhed  up,  crouching. 

He  flung  the  blade  aloft  to  strike.  Everything  was 
whirling  in  a  haze  of  dust  and  dancing  confusion,  lurid 
under  the  ilare.  Grinning,  bleeding  faces,  rage-dis 
torted,  gyrated  before  him.  He  swirled  the  kris  at  the 
nearest. 

A  hand,  vising  his  wrist,  snapped  the  blade  down 
ward,  drove  it  back.  Hal  felt  a  swift  sting,  a  burning, 
lancinating  pain  in  his  right  pectoral  muscle.  It 
seemed  to  pierce  the  chest,  the  lung  itself. 

He  dropped  his  arm,  staring.  The  kris,  smeared 
brightly  red,  thumped  to  the  floor. 

"  Got  'im,  b'  God !  "  wheezed  somebody. 

"  Got  him  —  yes,  an'  now  it  won't  be  healthy  fer  us, 
if  we're  caught  here,  neither!  "  panted  another. 

The  men  stood  away  from  him,  peering  curiously. 


3i4  CURSED 

Hal  confronted  them,  one  arm  limp.  The  other  hand 
rested  against  the  cabin  bulkhead.  He  swayed,  with 
the  swaying  of  the  boat;  his  head,  sagging  forward, 
seemed  all  at  once  very  heavy.  He  felt  a  hot  trickle 
down  his  breast. 

"  You  —  you've  got  me,  you  — "  he  coughed,  and, 
leaning  his  back  against  the  bulkhead,  got  his  free  hand 
feebly  to  the  wound.  It  came  away  horribly  red.  By 
the  smoky,  feeble  flare,  he  blinked  at  it.  The  three 
hulking  men  still  on  foot  —  vague  figures,  with  black 
shadows  on  bearded  faces,  with  eyes  of  fear  and  dying 
anger  —  found  no  answer.  One  sopped  at  a  cut  cheek 
with  his  sleeve ;  another  rubbed  his  elbow  and  growled 
a  curse.  On  the  cabin  floor  two  lay  inert,  amid  the 
trample  of  debris. 

"  Now  you've  done  it,  Coombs,"  suddenly  spat  the 
smallest  of  McLaughlin's  men.  He  shook  a  violent 
forefinger  at  the  blood-smeared  kris  that  had  fallen 
near  the  ladder.  "  Now  we  got  murder  on  our  hands, 
you  damn  fool !  We  didn't  come  here  to  kill  the  son  of 
a  dog.  We  only  come  to  give  him  a  damn  good  beat- 
in'-up,  an'  now  see  what  you've  went  an'  done!  We 
got  to  clear  out,  all  of  us !  An'  stick,  too ;  we  got  to  fix 
this  story  right !  " 

"  W'hat  —  what  d'you  mean  ?  "  stammered  Coombs, 
he  of  the  bleeding  cheek.  He  had  gone  ashy  pale. 
The  whiteness  of  his  skin  make  startling  contrast  with 
the  oozing  blood.  "  What  story  ?  What  we  gotta 
do?" 

"  Get  ashore  an'  all  chew  it  over  an'  agree  on  how 
we  wasn't  within  a  mile  o'  here  to-night.  Fix  it,  an' 
git  ready  to  swear  to  it!  If  we  don't,  we'll  all  go  up! 
Come  along  out  o'  here !  Quick !  " 

"  Aw,  hell !  If  he  dies,  serves  him  right !  "  spoke  up 
the  third  man.  "  They  can't  touch  us  fer  killin'  a 
skunk!" 


FATE  STRIKES  '315 

"  You'll  soon  find  out  if  they  can  or  not!  "  retorted 
the  small  man,  livid  with  fear.  "  Out  o'  here  now !  " 

"  An'  not  fix  him  up  none  ?  Not  bandage  him  ner 
nothing'  ?  "  put  in  Coombs.  "  Gosh !  " 

"  Bandage  nothin' !  "  cried  the  small  man.  "  Tully's 
right.  We  got  to  be  clearin'.  But  /  say,  set  fire  to 
her  an'  burn  her  where  she  lays,  an'  him  in  her,  an' — " 

"  Yes,  an'  have  the  whole  damn  town  here,  an'  every- 
thin' !  You  got  a  head  on  you  like  a  capstan.  Come 
on,  beat  it !  " 

"We  can't  go  an'  leave  our  fellers  here,  can  we?" 
demanded  Coombs,  while  Hal,  sliding  down  along  the 
bulkhead,  collapsed  upon  the  blood-stained  floor.  He 
felt  his  life  oozing  out  hotly,  but  now  had  no  power 
even  to  raise  a  hand.  Coombs  peered  down,  his  eyes 
unnaturally  big.  "  We  can't  leave  them!  That'd  be 
a  dead  give-away.  An'  we  hadn't  oughta  leave  a  man 
bleed  to  death  that  way,  neither." 

"  T'  hell  with  'im !  "  shrilled  the  little  man,  more  and 
more  panic-stricken.  "  We  should  worry !  Git  hold 
o'  Nears  an'  Dunning  here,  an'  on  deck  with  'em.  We 
can  git  'em  ashore,  an'  the  others,  too,  in  the  dory. 
We  can  all  git  down  to  Hammill's  fish-shed  an'  no  one 
the  wiser.  Give  us  a  hand  here,  you !  " 

"  I'm  goin'  to  stay  an'  fix  this  here  man  up,"  de 
cided  Coombs.  "  I  reckon  I  stuck  him,  or  he  stuck 
himself  because  I  gaffled  onta  his  hand.  Anyhow,  I 
done  it.  You  clear  out,  if  you  wanta.  I  ain't  goin' 
to  let  that  feller  — 

"  You're  comin'  with  us,  an'  no  double-crossin' !  " 
shouted  Tully,  his  bruised  face  terrible,  one  eye  black 
ened  and  swollen.  He  bored  a  big-knuckled  fist 
against  Coombs's  nose.  "If  you're  caught  here,  we're 
all  done.  You're  comin'  now,  or,  by  the  jumpin'  jews- 
harps,  I'll  knock  you  cold  myself,  an'  lug  you  straight 
ashore !  " 


316  CURSED 

"  An'  I'll  help  ye!  "  volunteered  the  little  man,  with 
a  string  of  oaths.  "  Come  on  now,  git  busy !  " 

Overborne,  Coombs  had  to  yield.  The  three  men 
prepared  to  make  good  their  escape  and  to  cover  all 
tracks.  Not  even  lifting  Hal  into  a  berth,  but  leaving 
him  sprawled  face-downward  on  the  floor,  with  blood 
more  and  more  soaking  his  heavy  reefer,  they  dragged 
the  unconscious  men  to  the  companion,  hauled  them  up 
and  across  the  pitching,  slippery  deck,  and  dropped 
them  like  potato  sacks  into  the  dory  that  had  brought 
them.  Then  they  did  likewise  with  the  unconscious 
man  Hal  had  used  as  a  flail  against  them.  In  the  dark 
and  storm,  all  this  took  minutes  and  caused  great  exer 
tion.  But  at  last  it  was  done;  and  now  Tully  once 
more  descended  to  the  cabin. 

He  looked  around  with  great  care,  blinking  his  one 
still  serviceable  eye,  his  torn  face  horrible  by  the  gutter 
ing  oil-flame  that  danced  as  puffs  of  wind  entered  the 
hatch. 

"  What  you  doin'  down  there,  Tully  ?  "  demanded  a 
voice  from  above.  "  Friskin'  him  fer  his  watch  ?  " 

"  I'll  frisk  you  when  I  git  you  ashore !  "  Tully  flung 
up  at  him.  Coombs  slid  down  into  the  cabin. 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  he,  "  but  I  ain't  trustin'  you 
much!" 

"  Aw,  go  to  hell !  "  Tully  spat.  He  stooped  and  be 
gan  pawing  over  the  ruck  on  the  floor.  Here  he  picked 
up  a  cap,  there  a  piece  of  torn  sleeve.  He  even  found 
a  button,  and  pocketed  that.  His  search  was  thorough. 
When  it  ended,  nothing  incriminating  was  left. 

"  I  reckon  they  won't  git  much  on  us  now"  he 
grinned,  and  contemplatively  worked  back  and  forth  a 
loosened  tooth  that  hardly  hung  to  the  gum.  "  An' 
if  they  try  to  lay  it  on  us,  they  can't  prove  nothin'. 
All  of  us  swearin'  together  can  git  by.  There  ain't  no 
witness  except  him"  with  a  jerk  of  the  thumb  at  the 


FATE  STRIKES  317 

gasping,  unconscious  form.  "  Nobody,  unless  he  gits 
well,  which  he  ain't  noways  likely  to." 

He  rolled  Hal  over,  looked  down  with  malice  and 
hate  at  the  pale,  battered  face,  listened  a  moment  to  the 
laboring,  slow  rale  of  the  breath,  and  nodded  with  sat 
isfaction.  Even  the  bloody  froth  on  Hal's  blue  lips 
gave  him  joy. 

"  You  got  what's  comin'  to  you,  all  right !  "  he 
sneered.  "  Got  it  proper.  Thought  you'd  git  funny 
with  Mac  an'  his  gang,  huh?  Always  butted  through 
everything  did  you  ?  Well,  this  here  was  one  proposi 
tion  you  couldn't  butt  through.  We  was  one  too  many 
fer  you,  all  righto !  " 

He  turned,  and  saw  Coombs  with  the  kris  in  hand. 
Fear  leaped  into  his  face,  but  Coombs  only  gibed : 

"You're  a  great  one,  ain't  you?  Coverin'  up  the 
story  o'  what  happened  here  an'  leavin'  that  in  a  cor 
ner!" 

Fear  gave  way  to  sudden  covetousness. 

"Gimme  that  there  knife!"  demanded  Tully. 
"  There  is  a  souvenir !  That  there's  a  krish.  I  can 
hide  it  O.K.  Gimme  it!" 

Coombs's  answer  was  to  stoop,  lay  the  kris  down  and 
set  his  huge  sea-boot  on  it.  A  quick,  upward  wrench 
at  the  lotus-bud  handle  and  the  snaky,  poisoned  blade, 
maybe  a  thousand  years  old,  snapped  with  a  jangle  of 
dissevered  steel. 

"  Here,  you !  "  shouted  Tully.  But  already  Coombs 
had  swung  to  the  companion.  One  toss,  and  lotus-bud 
and  shattered  blade  gyrated  into  the  dark.  The  waves, 
white-foaming,  received  them;  they  vanished  forever 
from  the  world  of  men. 

"  On  deck  with  you  now !  "  commanded  Coombs. 
"If  we're  goin'  to  do  this  at  all,  we're  goin'  to  make  a 
good  job  of  it.  You  go  first!  " 

Tully  had  to  obey.     Coombs  puffed  out  the  light  and 


318  CURSED 

—  leaving  Hal  Briggs  in  utter  dark,  bleeding,  poisoned, 
dying  —  followed  on  up  the  ladder.  The  dory  pushed 
away,  laden  with  three  unconscious  men  and  three 
others  by  no  means  unscathed  of  battle.  Toward  the 
shore  it  struggled,  borne  on  the  hungry  surges. 

Thus  fled  the  men  of  McLaughlin's  crew  —  avenged. 
Thus,  brought  low  by  the  cursed  thing  that  had  come 
half-way  'round  the  world  and  waited  half  a  hundred 
years  to  strike,  Hal  sank  toward  the  great  blackness. 

Lotus-bud,  symbol  of  sleep,  and  poisoned  blade  — 
cobra- fang  from  the  dim,  mysterious  Orient  —  now 
with  their  work  well  done,  lay  under  waves  of  storm  in 
a  wild,  northern  sea. 

Above,  in  the  black,  storm-whipped  sky,  was  the 
blind  face  of  Destiny  peering  with  laughter  down  upon 
the  fulfilment  of  its  prophecy? 


CHAPTER  XLII 

IN    EXTREMIS 

It  would  be  difficult  to  tell  how  long  the  wounded  boy 
lay  there,  but  after  a  certain  time,  some  vague  glimmer 
ing  of  consciousness  returned.  No  light  came  back. 
Neither  was  motion  possible  to  him.  His  understand 
ing  now  was  merely  pain,  confusion  and  a  great  roar 
ing  wind  and  wave.  Utter  weakness  gripped  his  body ; 
but  more  than  this  seemed  to  enchain  him.  By  no 
effort  of  his  reviving  will  could  he  move  hand  or  foot; 
and  even  the  slow  breath  he  took,  each  respiration  a 
stab  of  agony,  seemed  for  some  reason  a  mighty  effort. 

Though  Hal  knevy  it  not,  already  the  curare  was  at 
work,  the  curare  whose  terrible  effect  is  this :  that  it 
paralyzes  every  muscle,  first  the  voluntaries,  then  those 
of  the  respiratory  centers  and  of  the  heart  itself.  Yet 
he  could  think  and  feel.  Curare  does  not  numb  sensa 
tion  or  attack  the  brain.  It  strikes  its  victims  down 
by  rendering  them  more  helpless  than  an  infant;  and 
then,  fingering  its  way  to  the  breath  and  to  the  blood, 
closes  on  those  a  grip  that  has  one  outcome  only. 

Hal  Briggs,  who  had  so  gloried  in  the  strength  and 
swift  control  of  all  his  muscles,  who  had  so  wrought 
evil  and  violent  things,  trusting  to  his  unbeatable 
power,  now  lay  there,  chained,  immobile,  paralyzed. 

He  thought,  after  a  few  vain  efforts  to  move: 

"  I  must  be  badly  cut  to  be  as  weak  as  this.  I  must 
be  bled  almost  to  death.  I'm  going  to  die.  That's 
certain !  " 

Still,  he  was  not  afraid.     The  soul  of  him  confronted 

319 


320  CURSED 

death,  unterrified.  Even  while  his  laboring  heart 
struggled  against  the  slow  instillation  of  the  curare, 
and  even  while  his  lungs  caught  sluggishly  at  the  air, 
his  mind  was  undaunted. 

He  wanted  light,  but  there  was  none.  A  velvet  dark 
enveloped  everything  —  a  dark  in  which  the  creaking 
fabric  of  the  Kittiwink  heaved,  plunged  till  it  rolled 
his  inert  body  back  against  the  shell  of  the  craft,  then 
forward  again. 

"  I  got  some  of  them,  anyhow,"  he  reflected,  with 
strange  calmness.  "  They  didn't  get  away  without  a 
lot  of  punishment.  If  they  hadn't  knifed  me,  I'd  have 
cleaned  up  the  whole  bunch !  " 

A  certain  satisfaction  filled  his  thoughts.  If  one 
must  die,  it  is  good  to  know  the  enemy  has  taken  griev 
ous  harm. 

Still,  what,  after  all,  did  it  matter?  He  felt  so 
very  languid,  so  transfixed  with  that  insistent  pain  in 
the  right  lung!  Even  though  he  had  killed  them  all, 
would  that  have  rcompensed  him  for  the  failure  of  all 
his  cherished  plans,  for  the  loss  of  the  life  that  was  to 
have  meant  so  wildly  much  to  him? 

He  felt  a  warm  oozing  on  his  breast,  and  knew  blood 
was  still  seeping.  His  lips  tasted  salty,  but  he  could 
not  even  spit  away  the  blood  on  them.  Curare  is  of  a 
hundred  different  types.  This,  which  he  had  received, 
had  numbed  his  muscles  beyond  any  possibility  of  wak 
ing  them  to  action.  A  few  vain  efforts  convinced  him 
he  could  not  move.  So  there  he  lay,  suffering,  won 
dering  how  any  loss  of  blood  —  so  long  as  life  re 
mained  —  could  so  paralyze  him. 

His  thoughts  drifted  to  Snug  Haven,  to  his  grand 
father,  to  Ezra,  to  Laura,  but  now  in  more  confusion. 
He  realized  that  he  was  fainting  and  could  do  nothing 
to  prevent  it.  A  humming,  different  from  the  storm- 
wind,  welled  up  in  his  ears.  He  felt  that  he  was  sink- 


IN  EXTREMIS  '321 

ing  down,  away.  Then  all  at  once  he  ceased  alike  to 
think,  to  feel. 

When  next  he  came  to  some  vague  consciousness,  he 
sensed  —  millions  of  miles  away  —  a  touch  on  his 
shoulder,  a  voice  in  his  ears.  He  knew  that  voice ;  and 
yet,  somehow,  he  could  not  tell  whose  voice  it  was. 
He  understood  that  his  head  was  being  raised.  Very 
dimly,  through  closed  eyelids  that  he  could  not  open, 
he  perceived  the  faint  glimmer  of  a  light. 

"  Hal !  "  he  heard  his  name.  And  then  again : 
"Hal!" 

The  futile  effort  to  move,  to  answer,  spent  his  last 
forces.  Once  more  the  blackness  of  oblivion  received 
him  mercifully. 

"  Hal !  Oh,  God !  Hal,  speak  to  me !  Answer 
me!"  Laura's  voice  trembled,  broke  as  she  pleaded. 
"Oh  —  they've  killed  you!  They've  killed  you!" 

With  eyes  of  terror  she  peered  down  at  him.  In  her 
shaking  hand  the  little  electric  search-lamp  sent  its 
trembling  beam  to  illuminate  the  terrible  sight  there 
on  the  cabin  floor.  The  girl  could  get  only  broken  im 
pressions  —  a  pale,  wan  face ;  closed  eyes  that  would 
not  open;  a  fearful  welter  of  blood  on  throat  and 
chest. 

"  Look  at  me !  Speak  to  me !  You  aren't  dead  — 
look  at  me !  It's  Laura !  Hal  —  Hal! " 

Her  words  were  disjointed.  For  a  moment  pres 
ence  of  mind  left  her.  For  a  moment,  she  was  just  a 
frightened  girl,  suddenly  confronted  by  this  horrible 
thing,  by  the  broken,  dying  body  of  the  man  she  had 
so  loved.  And  while  that  moment  lasted  she  cried  out ; 
she  gathered  Hal  to  her  breast;  she  called  to  him  and 
called  again,  and  got  no  answer. 

But  soon  her  first  anguish  passed.  She  whipped 
back  her  reason  and  forced  herself  to  think.  The  pre 
science  she  had  felt  of  evil  had  indeed  come  true.  The 


322  CURSED 

furtive,  dark  figures  that  from  her  window  she  had 
seen  slinking  toward  Hadlock's  Cove,  had  indeed 
sought  Hal  just  as  she  had  felt  that  they  were  seeking 
him.  And  the  numb  grief  that,  after  she  had  seen  Hal 
passing  down  the  road,  had  still  chained  her  at  that 
upper  window  peering  out  into  the  darkening  storm, 
had  all  at  once  given  place  to  action. 

What  strategies  she  had  had  to  employ  to  escape 
from  the  house !  What  a  battle  with  the  tempest  she 
had  fought,  with  wind  and  rain  tearing  at  her  long  coat, 
the  pocket  of  which  had  held  the  flashlight!  Ay,  and 
that  battle  had  been  only  a  skirmish  compared  to  the 
launching  of  a  dory,  the  mad  struggle  through  the 
surf.  All  thought  of  danger  flung  to  the  wings  of 
heaven,  all  fear  of  Hal  abandoned,  and  of  losing  her 
good  name  in  case  of  being  seen  by  any  one,  so  she  had 
battled  her  way  to  him  —  to  warn  him,  to  save  him. 

Laura,  suddenly  grown  calm  with  that  heroic  resolu 
tion  which  inspires  every  true  woman  in  the  moment  of 
need,  let  the  boy's  head  fall  back  and  mustered  her 
thoughts.  She  realized  the  essential  thing  was  go  for 
help,  at  once.  Strong  as  she  was,  and  nerved  with 
desperation,  she  knew  the  task  of  dragging  Hal  up  the 
companionway,  of  getting  him  into  her  dory,  of  carry 
ing  him  ashore  in  the  gale-beaten  surf  surpassed  her 
powers. 

So  she  must  leave  him,  even  though  he  should  die 
alone  there. 

But,  first,  she  could  at  least  give  him  some  aid.  She 
peered  about  her,  flicking  the  electric  beam  over  the 
trampled  confusion.  What  could  she  use  for  band 
ages?  A  smashed  suit-case  yawned  wide,  its  contents 
slewed  about.  She  caught  up  a  shirt,  tore  it  into  broad 
strips  and,  laying  the  flash-light  in  the  berth,  bent  to 
her  work. 

"  Oh,  God !  "  she  whispered,  as  she  laid  bare  the 


IN  EXTREMIS  323 

wound;  but  though  she  felt  giddy,  she  kept  on.  The 
sagging  dead  weight  of  Hal's  body  almost  overbore  her 
strength.  She  held  it  up,  however,  and  very  tightly 
bound  him,  up  around  the  massive  neck,  over  the  back, 
across  the  high-arched,  muscular  chest.  She  knotted 
her  bandages,  and  let  Hal  sink  down  again. 

Then  she  smoothed  back  his  drabbled  hair.  She 
bent  and  kissed  him ;  snatched  the  light,  turned  and  fled 
up  the  companion,  clambered  down  into  the  dory,  and 
cast  loose. 

All  the  strength  of  her  young  arms  had  to  strain 
their  uttermost.  Passionately  she  labored.  The 
wounded  man  no  longer  was  the  brute  who  had  so 
cruelly  sought  to  wrong  her.  He  was  no  longer  the 
untamed  savage,  the  bully,  the  thief.  No,  in  his  help 
lessness  he  had  gone  swiftly  back  to  the  boy  she  had 
known  and  loved  —  just  Hal,  her  boy. 

The  storm-devils,  snatching  at  her,  seemed  incar 
nate  things  that  fought  her  for  his  life.  The  wind 
that  drove  her  away  from  the  shingle-beach  and  toward 
the  rocks  below  Jim  Gordon's  store,  the  lathering  crests 
that  spewed  their  cold  surges  into  the  dory  as  it  heaved 
high  and  swung  far  down,  seemed  shouting:  "  Death 
to  Hal !  " 

Laura,  her  hair  down  and  flying  wild,  pulled  till 
wrists  and  arms  seemed  breaking.  For  a  few  minutes 
she  thought  herself  lost;  but  presently,  when  breath  and 
strength  were  at  the  ragged  edge,  she  began  to  hear  the 
loud,  rattling  clamor  of  pebbles  on  the  shingle.  A 
breaker  caught  the  dory,  flung  it  half  round,  upset  it. 
Into  the  water,  strangling,  struggling,  Laura  plunged. 
The  backwash  caught  her,  tugged  at  her.  She  found 
footing,  lost  it,  fell  and  choked  a  cry  in  cold  brine. 

The  next  breaker  heaved  her  up.  She  crawled 
through  wrack  and  weed,  over  jagged  stones,  and  fell 
exhausted  on  a  sodden  windrow  of  drift. 


324  CURSED 

For  a  minute  she  could  move  no  further,  but  had  to 
lie  under  the  pelting  rain,  with  the  dark  hands  of  ocean 
clutching  to  drag  her  back.  But  presently  a  little 
strength  revived.  She  crawled  forward  once  more, 
staggered  to  her  feet,  and,  falling,  getting  up  again, 
won  to  the  top  of  the  dune. 

Off  to  her  left,  dim  through  the  shouting  night,  the 
vague  light-blurs  of  old  man  Gordon's  windows  were 
fronting  the  tempest.  The  girl  struggled  forward, 
sobbing  for  breath.  Not  all  the  fury  of  the  North  At 
lantic,  flung  against  that  shore,  had  turned  her  from  her 
task. 

Astonished  beyond  words,  the  lobstermen  and  fishers 
eyed  her  with  blank  faces  as  she  burst  in  the  door. 
Under  the  light  of  tin  reflectors,  quids  remained  un- 
chewed,  pipes  unsmoked.  Bearded  jaws  fell.  Eyes 
blinked. 

The  girl's  wet,  draggled  hair,  her  bloodless  face  and 
burning  eyes  stunned  them  all. 

"  Quick,  quick !  "  she  implored.     "  Hal  Briggs  — " 

"  What's  he  done  now,  girl  ?  "  cried  old  Sy  Whit- 
taker,  starting  up.  "He  ain't  hurt  you,  has  he?  If 
fa  has— " 

"  He's  been  stabbed,  aboard  the  Kittiwink!  He's 
bleeding  to  death  there !  " 

Chairs  scraped.     Excitement  blazed. 

"  What's  that,  Laura?  "  cried  Gordon.  "  Stabbed? 
Who  done  it?" 

"Oh,  no  matter  —  go,  quick —   go,  go!" 

"  Damn  funny !  "  growled  a  voice  from  behind  the 
stove.  "  Gal  goin'  aboard  night  like  this,  an'  him 
stabbed.  Looks  mighty  bad !  " 

"  You'll  look  a  damn  sight  wuss  if  you  say  that 
agin,  or  anythin'  like  it !  "  shouted  the  old  storekeeper 
with  doubled  fist.  "  Hal  Briggs  ain't  worryin'  me 
none,  but  this  here  is  Laura,  old  man  Maynard's  gal, 


IN  EXTREMIS  325 

an'  by  the  Jeeruzlem  nobody  ain't  goin'  to  say  nothin* 
about  her !  Tell  me,  gal,"  he  added,  "  is  he  hurt  bad  ?  " 

She  caught  him  by  the  arm.     He  had  to  hold  her  up. 

"  Dying,  Jim !  Bleeding  to  death !  Oh,  for  the  love 
of  God  —  hurry,  hurry!" 

Around  them  the  rough,  bearded  men  jostled  in 
pea-coats,  slickers,  sou'westers.  The  tin  reflectors 
struck  harsh  lights  and  shadows  from  rugged  faces  of 
astonishment. 

"Who  could  o'  done  it?"  began  Shorrocks,  the 
blacksmith.  "  They'd  oughta  be  ketched,  an' — " 

"  Never  you  mind  about  that !  "  cried  Gordon.  He 
caught  from  a  nail  a  formless  old  felt  hat  and  jammed 
it  on  his  head ;  he  snatched  up  a  lighted  lantern  stand 
ing  on  the  counter,  and  with  a  hobnailed  clatter  ran  for 
the  door. 

"  Everybody  out !  "  he  bellowed.  "  Everybody  out 
now,  to  help  Laura!  " 

Into  the  storm  he  flung  himself.  All  hands  cascaded 
toward  the  door. 

"  You  stay  here,  gal !  "  advised  Asahel  Calkins,  lob- 
sterman.  "  Ain't  no  night  fer  you !  " 

"  I  can't  stay!  Let  me  gt>,  too!"  she  pleaded. 
They  made  way  for  her.  With  the  men  she  ran. 
Two  or  three  others  had  lanterns,  but  these  made  no 
more  than  tiny  dancing  blurs  of  light  in  the  drenching 
dark.  Along  a  path,  then  into  the  field  and  up  to  the 
storm-scourged  dune  they  stumbled,  pantingly,  bucking 
the  gale.  The  lanterns  set  giant  legs  of  shadows  strid 
ing  up  against  the  curtain  of  the  rain-drive,  as  the  men 
pressed  onward.  Snapping,  Laura's  skirts  flailed. 

Over  the  dune  they  charged,  and  scuffled  down  to  the 
dories.  Disjointed  words,  cries,  commands  whipped 
away.  Strong  hands  hustled  a  dory  down.  Laura 
was  clambering  in  already,  but  Jim  Gordon  pulled  her 
back. 


326  CURSED 

"  No,  gal,  no ! "  he  ordered  sternly.  His  voice 
flared  on  the  wind  as  he  shoved  her  into  the  arms  of 
Shorrocks.  "  You,  Henry,  look  out  for  her.  Don't 
let  her  do  nothin'  foolish !  " 

He  set  his  lantern  in  the  dory,  impressed  Calkins  and 
another  into  his  service,  and  scrambled  aboard.  A 
dozen  hands  ran  the  dory  out  through  the  first  breakers. 
Oars  caught ;  and  as  the  men  came  up  the  beach,  drip 
ping  in  the  vague  lantern-light,  the  dory  pulled  away. 

To  Laura,  waiting  with  distracted  fear  among  the 
fishermen,  it  seemed  an  hour;  yet  at  the  most  hardly 
fifteen  minutes  had  passed  before  the  little  boat  came 
leaping  shoreward  in  white  smothers.  Out  jumped 
Gordon.  Laura  ran  to  him,  knee-deep  in  a  breaker. 

"  Is  he  —  dead?  "  she  shivered,  with  clacking  teeth. 

"  Nope.  Ain't  much  time  to  lose,  though,  an'  that's 
a  fact.  He's  cut  some,  looks  like!  Goddy  mighty, 
but  there  must  o'  been  some  fight  out  there !  " 

He  turned  to  the  dory.  With  others,  he  lifted  out 
a  heavy  body,  wrapped  in  sailcloth,  horribly  suggestive 
of  a  burial  at  sea.  Laura  gripped  her  hands  together 
for  self-mastery. 

"  Oh,  hurry,  hurry !  "  she  entreated. 

"  We'll  do  all  we  kin,  gal,"  some  one  answered,  "  but 
we  ain't  no  real  amb' lance-corpse.  It's  goin'  to  be  a 
slow  job,  gittin'  him  home." 

"  Here,  Laura,  you  carry  a  lantern  an'  go  ahead, 
'cross  the  field,"  commanded  Gordon,  with  deep  wis 
dom.  Only  to  give  her  something  to  do,  something  to 
occupy  her  mind,  was  kindness  of  the  deepest.  Into 
her  hand  old  Calkins  thrust  a  lantern. 

"  All  ready !  "  cried  he.     "  H'ist  anchor,  an'  away !  " 

Seven  or  eight  men  got  hold,  round  the  edges  of  the 
sail-cloth,  and  so,  swinging  the  inert  Hal  as  in  a  cradle, 
they  stumbled  to  the  road,  with  Laura  going  on  ahead. 

To  the   right   they   turned,   toward   Snug   Haven. 


IN  EXTREMIS  327 

Now  Laura  walked  beside  them.  Once  in  a  while  she 
looked  at  the  white  face  half  seen  in  its  white  cradle, 
now  beginning  to  be  mottled  with  crimson  stains. 

But  she  said  no  other  word.  Strong  with  the  calm 
that  had  reasserted  itself,  she  walked  that  night  road  of 
storm  and  agony. 

Thus  was  Hal  Biriggs  borne  back  to  his  grandfather's 
house. 

In  the  cabin  at  Snug  Haven  old  Captain  Briggs  — 
having  finished  his  letter  to  Hal  and  put  that,  too,  in  the 
safe  —  had  now  come  to  the  last  task  of  all,  the  sacri 
fice  that,  so  he  faithfully  believed,  was  to  remove  the 
curse  of  Dengan  Jouga  from  his  boy. 

A  strange  lassitude  weighed  down  upon  the  old  man, 
the  weariness  that  comes  when  a  long  journey  is  almost 
done  and  the  lights  of  home  begin  to  shine  out  through 
"  the  evening  dews  and  damps."  The  captain  felt  that 
he  had  come  at  last  to  journey's  end.  He  sat  there  at 
his  desk,  eying  the  revolver,  a  sturdy,  resolute  figure; 
an  heroic  figure,  unflinchingly  determined ;  a  figure  en 
nobled  by  impending  sacrifice,  thoughtful,  quiet,  strong. 
His  face,  that  had  been  lined  with  grief,  had  grown 
quite  calm.  The  light  upon  it  seemed  less  from  his 
old-time  cabin-lamp  than  from  some  inner  flame. 
With  a  new  kind  of  happiness,  more  blessed  than  any 
he  had  ever  known,  he  smiled. 

"  Thank  God!  "  he  murmured,  with  devout  earnest 
ness.  "  It  won't  be  long  now  afore  I'm  with  the  others 
that  have  waited  for  me  all  this  time  up  there  on  Croft 
Hill.  I'm  glad  to  go.  It  isn't  everybody  than  can 
save  the  person  they  love  best  of  anything  in  the  world, 
by  dying.  I  thought  God  was  hard  with  me,  but  after 
all  I  find  He's  very  good.  He'll  understand.  He'd 
ought  to  know,  Himself,  what  dying  means  to  save 
something  that  must  be  saved !  " 


328  CURSED 

Once  more  he  looked  at  Hal's  picture.  Earnestly 
and  simply,  he  kissed  it.  Then  he  laid  it  on  the  desk 
again. 

"  Good-by,"  said  he.  "  Maybe  you  won't  ever  un 
derstand.  Maybe  you'll  blame  me.  Lots  will.  I'll  be 
called  a  coward.  You'll  have  to  bear  some  burden  on 
account  of  me,  but  this  is  the  only  way." 

His  expression  reflected  the  calm  happiness  which 
comes  with  realization  that  to  die  for  one  beloved  is  a 
better  and  more  blessed  thing  than  life.  Never  had 
old  Captain  Briggs  felt  such  joy.  Not  only  was  he 
opening  the  ways  of  life  to  Hal,  but  he  was  cleansing 
his  own  soul.  And  all  at  once  he  felt  the  horror  of 
this  brooding  curse  was  lifting  —  this  curse  which, 
during  fifty  years,  had  been  reaching  out  from  the 
dark  and  violent  past. 

He  breathed  deeply  and  picked  up  the  revolver. 

"  God,  Thou  art  very  good  to  me,"  he  said  quietly. 
"  I  couldn't  understand  the  way  till  it  was  shown  me. 
But  now  I  understand." 

Toward  his  berth  he  turned,  to  lie  down  there  for 
the  last  time.  As  he  advanced  toward  it  he  became 
vaguely  conscious  of  some  confusion  outside.  A 
sound  of  voices,  gusty  and  faint  through  the  wind, 
reached  him.  These  came  nearer,  grew  louder. 

Listening,  he  paused,  with  a  frown.  Of  a  sudden, 
feet  clumped  on  the  front  steps.  Heavily  they  thudded 
across  the  porch.  And  with  sharp  insistence  his  elec 
tric  door-bell  trilled  its  musical  brrr! 

"  What's  that,  now  ?  "  said  the  captain.  Premoni 
tions  of  evil  pierced  his  heart.  As  he  hesitated,  not 
knowing  what  to  do,  the  front  door  boomed  with  the 
thudding  of  stout  fists.  A  heavy  boot  kicked  the 
panels.  A  voice  bawled  hoarsely: 

"  Briggs !  Ahoy,  there,  cap'n !  Let  us  in !  Fer 
God's  sake,  let  us  in!  " 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

CURARE 

"Who's  there?"  cried  Alpheus  Briggs,  astonished 
and  afraid.  He  faced  toward  the  front  hall. 
"What's  wanted?" 

A  tapping  at  his  window-pane,  with  eager  knuckles, 
drew  his  attention.  He  heard  a  woman's  voice  —  the 
voice  of  Laura  Maynard  : 

"  Here's  Hal !     Let  us  in ;  quick,  quick!  " 

"  Hal  ?  "  cried  the  old  man,  turning  very  white. 
That  evil  had  indeed  come  to  him  was  certain  now. 
He  strode  to  his  desk,  dropped  the  revolver  into  the 
top  drawer  and  closed  it,  then  crossed  over  to  the  win 
dow  and  raised  the  shade.  The  face  of  Laura,  with 
disheveled  hair  and  fear-widened  eyes,  was  peering  in 
at  him.  Briggs  flung  the  window  up. 

"  Where  is  he,  Laura?  What's  happened?  Who's 
here  with  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  can't  tell  you,  captain !  "  she  whispered.  He 
saw  her  trembling;  he  noted  those  big,  terror-stricken 
eyes,  and  thrilled  with  panic.  From  the  front  door 
sounded  a  confused  bass  murmur;  and  again  the  bell 
sounded.  "  Men  from  the  store  "  she  gulped,  "  Jim 
Gordon  and  others.  They're  — " 

"  They're  what,  Laura  ?  Bringing  Hal  back 
home?"' 

She  nodded  silently.  He  thought  he  had  never  seen 
a  woman  so  pale. 

"Captain,  let  them  in!"  she  cried.  "I've  got  to 
tell  you.  Hal  —  is  injured.  Open  the  door,  quick! 
Get  Dr.  Filhiol!" 

329 


330  CURSED 

Everything  else  forgotten  now,  the  captain  turned, 
precipitated  himself  into  the  hall  and  snatched  open 
the  front  door.  Gusts  of  rain  and  wind  tugged  at  him, 
flapping  his  bath  robe.  For  a  moment,  not  under 
standing  anything,  he  stood  peering  out  at  what  was  all 
a  blur  of  perfectly  incomprehensible  confusion.  His 
fear-stricken  eyes  and  brain  failed  to  register  any  clear 
perception.  A  second  or  two,  he  neither  heard  nor 
saw.  Then  he  became  aware  that  some  one  —  Jim 
Gordon,  yes  —  was  saying : 

"  We  done  the  best  we  could,  cap'n.  Got  him  here 
as  fast  as  we  could.  We'll  bring  him  right  in." 

The  captain  saw  something  white  out  there  on  the 
dark,  wet  porch.  In  the  midst  of  this  whiteness  a  form 
was  visible  —  and  now  the  old  man  perceived  a  face ; 
Hal's  face  —  and  what,  for  God's  sake,  was  all  this 
crimson  stain  ? 

He  plunged  forward,  thrusting  the  men  aside.  A 
lantern  swung,  and  he  saw  clearly. 

"  God  above !     They've  —  they've  murdered  him !  " 

"  No,  cap'n,  he  ain't  dead  yit,"  said  some  one,  "  but 
you'd  better  git  him  'tended  to,  right  snug  off." 

Old  Briggs  was  on  his  knees  now  gathering  the  lax 
figure  to  his  arms. 

"Hal!     Hal!" 

"  Shhh !  "  exclaimed  Gordon.  "  No  use  makin'  a 
touse,  cap'n.  He's  cut  some,  that's  a  fact,  but  — 

"  Who  killed  my  boy  ?  "  cried  the  old  man,  terrible  to 
look  upon.  "  Who  did  this  thing?  " 

"  Captain  Briggs,"  said  Laura  tremulously,  as  she 
pulled  at  his  sleeve,  "  you  mustn't  waste  a  minute ! 
Not  a  second!  He's  got  to  be  put  right  to  bed. 
We've  got  to  get  a  doctor  now !  " 

"  Here,  cap'n,  we'll  carry  him  in,  fer  ye,"  spoke  up 
Shorrocks.  "  Git  up,  cap'n,  an'  we'll  lug  him  right  in 
the  front  room." 


CURARE  331 

"  Nobody  shall  carry  my  boy  into  this  house  but  just 
his  grandfather !  "  cried  the  captain  in  a  loud,  strange 
voice. 

The  old-time  strength  of  Alpheus  Briggs  surged 
back.  His  arms,  that  felt  no  weakness  now,  gathered 
up  Hal  as  in  the  old  days  they  had  caught  him  when  a 
child.  Into  the  house  he  bore  him,  with  the  others  fol 
lowing;  into  the  cabin,  and  so  to  the  berth.  The  boy's 
head,  hanging  limp,  rested  against  the  old  man's  arm, 
tensed  with  supreme  effort.  The  crimson  stain  from 
the  grandson's  breast'  tinged  the  grandsire's.  Down  in 
the  berth  the  captain  laid  him,  and,  raising  his  head, 
entreated : 

"  Hal,  boy !     Speak  to  me  —  speak !  " 

Gordon  laid  a  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  It  ain't  no  use,  cap'n,"  said  he.  "  He's  too  fur 
gone."  With  a  muffled  clumping  of  feet  the  others, 
dripping,  awed,  silent,  trickled  into  the  room.  Laura 
had  already  run  up-stairs,  swift-footed,  in  quest  of  Dr. 
Filhiol.  "  It  ain't  no  use.  Though  mebbe  if  we  was 
to  git  a  little  whisky  into  him  — " 

"  Hal !  Master  Hal !  "  wailed  a  voice  of  agony. 
Old  Ezra,  ghastly  and  disheveled,  appeared  in  the  door 
way.  He  would  have  run  to  the  berth,  but  Shorrocks 
held  him  back. 

"  You  can't  do  no  good,  Ez !  "  he  growled.  "  He's 
gotta  have  air  —  don't  you  go  crowdin'  now  !  " 
•  The  shuffling  of  lame  feet  announced  Dr.  Filhiol. 
Laura,  still  in  her  drenched  long  coat,  helped  him  move 
swiftly.  Calkins  shoved  up  a  chair  for  him  beside 
the  berth,  and  the  old  doctor  dropped  into  it. 

"A  light  here!"  commanded  he,  with  sudden  re 
turn  of  professional  instinct  and  authority.  Laura 
threw  off  her  coat,  seized  the  lamp  from  its  swinging- 
ring  over  the  desk,  and  held  it  close.  Its  shine  re 
vealed  the  pallor  of  her  face,  the  great  beauty  of  her 


332  CURSED 

eyes,  the  soul  of  her  that  seemed  made  visible  in  their 
compassionate  depths,  where  dwelt  an  infinite  forgive 
ness. 

"  You'll  have  to  stand  back,  captain,"  ordered  the 
doctor  succinctly.  "  You're  only  smothering  him  that 
way,  holding  him  in  your  arms ;  and  you  must  not  kiss 
him !  Lay  him  down  —  so !  Ezra,  stop  that  noise ! 
Give  me  scissors  or  a  knife,  quick !  " 

Speaking,  the  doctor  was  already  at  work.  With 
the  sharp  blade  that  Calkins  passed  him  he  cut  away  the 
blood-soaked  bandage  and  threw  it  to  the  floor.  His 
old  hands  did  not  tremble  now;  the  call  of  duty  had 
steeled  his  muscles  with  instinctive  reactions.  His 
eyes,  narrowed  behind  their  spectacles,  made  careful 
appraisal. 

"  Deep  stab-wound,"  said  he.  "  How  did  he  get 
this?  Any  one  know  anything  about  it?  " 

"  He  got  it  in  the  cabin  of  the  Kittiwink,"  answered 
Laura.  "  Everything  was  smashed  up  there.  It 
looked  to  me  as  if  Hal  had  fought  three  or  four  men." 

"  McLaughlin's ! "  cried  the  captain.  His  fists 
clenched  passionately.  "  Oh,  God !  They've  mur 
dered  my  boy !  Is  he  going  to  die,  Filhiol  ?  Is  he  ?  " 

"  That's  impossible  to  say.  We'll  need  plenty  of 
hot  water  here,  and  soap  and  peroxide.  Towels,  lots 
of  them!  Ezra,  you  hear  me?  Get  your  local  doctor 
at  once.  And  have  him  bring  his  surgical  kit  as  well 
as  his  medical.  Tell  him  it's  a  deep  stab,  with  great 
loss  of  blood.  Get  a  move  on,  somebody !  " 

Ezra,  Gordon  and  Calkins  departed.  The  front 
door  slammed,  feet  ran  across  the  porch,  then  down 
the  steps  and  away. 

"  Everybody  else  go,  too,"  directed  Filhiol.  "  We 
can't  have  outsiders  messing  round  here.  Get  out,  all 
the  rest  of  you  —  and  mind  now  you  don't  go  making 
any  loose  talk  about  who  did  it !  " 


CURARE  333 

Silently  the  fishermen  obeyed.  A  minute,  and  no 
one  was  left  in  the  cabin  save  old  Briggs,  Filhiol  and 
Laura,  gathered  beside  the  wounded,  immobile  figure 
in  the  berth. 

"  How  long  will  it  take  to  get  your  local  doctor?  " 
demanded  Filhiol,  inspecting  the  wound  that  still  oozed 
bright,  frothy  blood,  showing  the  lung  to  be  involved  in 
the  injury. 

"  Ten  minutes,  perhaps,"  said  Laura. 

"  H-m !     There's  no  time  to  lose  here." 

"  Is  he  going  to  die  ?  "  asked  the  old  captain,  his  voice 
now  firm.  He  had  grown  calm  again;  only  his  lips 
were  very  tight,  and  under  the  lamp-glow  his  forehead 
gleamed  with  myriad  tiny  drops.  "  Is  this  boy  of  mine 
going  to  die?  " 

"How  can  I  tell?    Why  ask?" 

"  If  he  does,  I  won't  survive  him!  That's  the  sim 
ple  truth." 

"  H-m !  "  grunted  Filhiol,  once  more.  He  cast  an 
oblique  glance  at  the  captain.  And  in  that  second  he 
realized  that  the  thought,  which  had  been  germinating 
in  his  brain,  could  lead  him  nowhere ;  the  thought  that 
now  his  wish  had  really  come  to  pass  —  that  Hal  was 
really  now  his  patient,  as  he  had  wished  the  boy  might 
be.  He  knew,  now,  that  even  though  he  could  so  far 
forget  his  ethics  as  to  fail  in  his  whole  duty  toward  Hal 
Briggs,  the  captain  held  an  unconscious  whip-hand  over 
him.  Just  those  few  simple  words,  spoken  from  the 
soul  — "  I  won't  survive  him  " —  had  closed  the  doors 
of  possibility  for  a  great  crime. 

Ezra  came  in  with  a  steaming  basin,  with  soap  and 
many  towels. 

"  Put  those  on  this  chair  here,"  commanded  Filhiol. 
"  And  then  either  keep  perfectly  quiet,  or  get  out  and 
stay  out !  " 

Cowed,  the  old  man  tremblingly  obliterated  himself 


334  CURSED 

in  the  shadow  behind  the  desk.  The  doctor  began  a 
little  superficial  cleaning  up  of  his  patient.  Hal  had 
still  shown  no  signs  of  consciousness,  nor  had  he 
opened  his  eyes.  Yet  the  fact  was,  he  remained  en 
tirely  conscious.  Everything  that  was  said  he  heard 
and  understood.  But  the  paralysis  gripping  him  had 
made  of  him  a  thing  wherein  no  slightest  power  lay  to 
indicate  his  thought,  or  understanding.  Alive,  yet 
dead,  he  lay  there,  much  as  the  amok  Malay  of  fifty 
years  before  had  lain  upon  the  deck  of  the  Silver  Fleece. 
And  all  his  vital  forces  now  had  narrowed  to  just  one 
effort  —  to  keep  heart  and  lungs  in  laboring  action. 

Little  by  little  the  invading  poison  was  attacking 
even  this  last  citadel  of  his  life.  Little  by  little,  heart 
and  lungs  were  failing,  as  the  curare  fingered  its  way 
into  the  last,  inner  nerve-centers.  But  still  life  fought. 
And  as  the  doctor  bent  above  Hal,  washing  away  the 
blood  from  lips  and  throat  and  chest,  a  half-instinctive 
analysis  of  the  situation  forced  itself  upon  him.  This 
wound,  these  symptoms  —  well,  what  other  diagnosis 
would  apply? 

"  There's  something  more  at  work  here,"  thought 
he,  "  than  just  loss  of  blood.  This  man  could  stand  a 
deal  of  that  and  still  not  be  in  any  such  collapse. 
There's  poison  of  some  kind  at  work.  And  if  this 
wound  isn't  the  cut  of  a  kris,  I  never  saw  one !  " 

He  raised  one  eyelid,  and  peered  at  the  pupil.  Then 
he  closed  the  eye  again. 

"  By  the  Almighty !  "  he  whispered. 

"  What  is  it,  doctor  ? "  demanded  the  captain. 
Don't  keep  anything  from  me !  " 

"  I  hate  to  tell  you !  " 

The  old  man  caught  his  breath,  but  never  flinched. 

"  Tell  me !  "  he  commanded.  Laura  peered  in  si 
lence,  very  white.  "  I  can  stand  it.  Tell  me  all  there 
is  to  tell!" 


CURARE  335 

"  Well,  captain,  from  what  I  find  here  —  there  can 
be  no  doubt  — " 

"  No  doubt  of  what  ?  " 

"  The  blade  that  stabbed  Hal  was  -—" 

"That  poisoned  kris?" 

Filhiol  nodded  silently. 

"  God  above !     The  curse  —  retribution !  " 

"  Oh,  for  heaven's  sake,  captain,  drop  all  that  non 
sense  ! "  flared  out  the  doctor  from  taut  nerves. 
"  This  is  no  time  for  your  infernal  superstitions ! 
We've  got  all  we  can  handle  without  cluttering  things 
up  with  a  mess  of  rubbish.  We've  got  a  long,  hard 
fight  on  our  hands." 

"I  know.  But  you  can  save  him,  doctor!  You 
must!" 

"  I'll  do  all  in  human  power.  This  wound  here 
I'm  not  in  a  position  to  deal  with.  Your  local  doctor 
can  attend  to  that.  It  isn't  the  vital  feature  of  this 
case.  The  poison  is !  " 

"  You've  got  a  remedy  for  that,  haven't  you?  You 
said  you  had !  " 

"  Do  you  realize  it's  been  an  hour,  perhaps,  since 
this  wound  was  made?  If  the  curare  had  been  fresh 
and  new  — "  He  finished  with  an  expressive  ges 
ture.  "  It's  old  and  dried,  and  some  of  it  must  have 
been  worn  off  the  blade.  Perhaps,  not  a  great  deal 
got  into  the  cut.  There's  a  chance,  a  fighting  chance 
—  perhaps." 

"  Then  the  remedy !  Quick,  doctor !  Get  it,  make 
it!" 

"  I've  got  to  wait  till  the  physician  comes.  I've 
got  no  drugs  with  me." 

"  Will  he  have  the  right  ones  ?  " 

"  They're  common  enough.  It  all  depends  on  the 
formula,  the  exact  mixture." 

"You  remember  them?" 


336  CURSED 

"  Maybe  I  can,  if  you  don't  disturb  my  mind  too 
much." 

"  I'll  be  quiet,  doctor.  You  just  order  me,  and 
I'll  do  anything  you  say,"  the  old  man  promised  ab 
jectly.  His  eyes  were  cavernous  with  suffering. 
"  Lord  God !  why  don't  Dr.  Marsh  come  ?  " 

"  Hal  here  is  suffering  from  a  general  paralysis," 
said  Filhiol.  "  This  curare  is  peculiar  stuff."  He 
laid  his  ear  to  Hal's  chest,  listened  a  moment,  then 
raised  his  head.  "  There's  some  heart-action  yet," 
said  he.  "  Our  problem  is  to  keep  it  going,  and  the 
respiration,  till  the  effects  pass.  It's  quite  possible 
'Hal  isn't  unconscious.  He  may  know  what's  going 
on.  With  this  poison  the  victim  feels  and  knows 
and  understands,  and  yet  can't  move  hand  or  foot. 
In  fact,  he's  reduced  to  complete  helplessness." 

"  And  yet  you  call  me  superstitious  when  I  talk 
retribution !  "  the  captain  whispered  tensely.  "  I  lived 
by  force  in  the  old  days.  He,  poor  boy,  put  all  his 
faith  and  trust  in  it;  he  made  it  his  God,  and  wor 
shipped  it.  And  now  —  he's  struck  down,  helpless  — " 

"  It  is  strange,"  Filhiol  had  to  admit.  "  I  don't 
believe  in  anything  like  that.  But  certainly  this  is 
very,  very  strange.  Yes,  your  grandson  is  more  help 
less  now  than  any  child.  Even  if  he  lives,  he'll  be 
helpless  for  a  long  time,  and  very  weak  for  months 
and  months.  This  kind  of  curare  used  by  the  upper 
Malay  people  is  the  most  diabolical  stuff  ever  con 
cocted.  Its  effects  are  swift  and  far-reaching;  they 
last  a  long,  long  time,  in  case  they  don't  kill  at  once. 
Hal  can  never  be  the  same  man  he  used  to  be,  captain. 
You've  got  to  make  up  your  mind  to  that,  anyhow"." 

"  Thank  the  Lord  for  it !  "  the  old  man  fervently 
ejaculated.  "  Thank  the  good  Lord  above !  " 

"If  he  lives,  he  may  sometime  get  back  a  fair 
amount  of  strength.  He  may  be  as  well  as  an  aver- 


CURARE  337 

age  man,  but  the  days  of  his  unbridled  power  and 
his  terrific  force  are  all  over.  His  fighting  heart 
and  arrogant  soul  are  gone,  never  to  return." 

"God  is  being  very  good  to  me!"  cried  Briggs, 
tears  starting  down  his  wrinkled  cheeks. 

"  Amen  to  that !  "  said  Laura.  "  I  don't  care  what 
he'll  be,  doctor.  Only  give  him  back  to  me !  " 

"  He'll  be  an  invalid  a  very  long  time,  girl." 

"  And  all  that  time  I  can  nurse  him  and  love  him 
back  to  health !  " 

Footsteps  suddenly  clattered  on  the  porch.  The 
front  door  flung  open. 

"Laura!  Are  you  all  right?  Are  you  safe?" 
cried  a  new  voice. 

"There's  my  father!"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "And 
there's  Dr.  Marsh,  with  him !  " 

Into  the  cabin  penetrated  two  men.  Nathaniel  May- 
nard  —  thin,  gray,  wiry  —  stood  staring.  The  phy 
sician,  brisk  and  competent,  set  his  bag  on  a  chair 
and  peeled  off  his  coat,  dripping  rain. 

"Laura!     Tell  me—" 

"  Not  now,  father !  "  Shhh !  I'm  all  right,  every 
way.  But  Hal  here  — " 

"  We  won't  have  any  unnecessary  conversation,  Mr. 
Maynard,"  directed  Dr.  Marsh.  He  approached  the 
berth.  "  What  is  this,  now  ?  Stab-wound  ?  Ah,  yes. 
Well,  I'll  wash  right  up  and  get  to  work." 

"  Do,  please,"  answered  Filhiol.  "  You  can  handle 
it  alone,  all  right.  I've  got  a  job  of  my  own.  There's 
poisoning  present,  too.  Curare." 

"  Curare!  "  exclaimed  Marsh,  amazed.  "  That's 
most  unusual !  Are  you  sure?  " 

"  I  didn't  serve  on  ships  in  the  Orient,  for  nothing," 
answered  Filhiol  with  asperity.  "  My  diagnosis  is 
absolute.  There  was  dried  curare  on  the  blade  that 
stabbed  this  man.  It's  a  very  complex  poison  —  either 


338  CURSED 

Ci8H35N,  or  CioH35N.  Only  one  man,  Sir  Robert 
Schomburg,  ever  found  out  how  the  natives  make 
it,  and  only  one  man  —  myself  —  ever  learned  the 
secret  of  the  antidote." 

"  So,  so  ?  "  commented  Marsh,  rolling  up  his  shirt 
sleeve.  He  set  out  antiseptics,  dressings,  pads,  drain 
age,  and  proceeded  to  scrub  up.  "  We  can't  do  this 
•work  here  in  the  berth.  Clear  the  desk,  Ezra,"  he 
directed.  "  It's  long  enough  for  an  operating-table. 
Make  up  a  bed  there  —  a  few  blankets  and  a  ciean 
sheet.  Then  we  can  lift  him  over.  We'll  strip  his 
chest  as  he  lies  —  cut  the  clothes  off.  Lively,  every 
one!  Curare,  eh?  I  never  came  in  contact  with  it, 
Dr.  Filhiol.  I'm  not  above  asking  its  physiological 
effects." 

"  It's  unique,"  answered  Filhiol.  He  got  up  from 
beside  the  wounded  man  and  approached  the  chair  on 
which  stood  the  doctor's  bag.  "  It  produces  a  type 
of  pure  motor-paralysis,  acting  on  the  end  plates  of 
the  muscles  and  the  peripheral  end-organs  of  the 
motor-nerves.  First  it  attacks  the  voluntary  muscles, 
and  then  those  of  respiration.  It  doesn't  cause  un 
consciousness,  however.  The  patient  here  may  know 
all  that's  going  on,  but  he  can't  make  a  sign.  Don't 
trust  to  this  apparent  unconsciousness  in  exploring 
the  wound.  Give  plenty  of  anesthetic,  just  as  if  he 
seemed  fully  conscious." 

"  Glad  you  told  me  that,"  said  Marsh,  nodding. 
"  How  about  stimulants,  or  even  a  little  nitroglycerine 
for  the  heart?" 

"  Useless.     There's  just  one  remedy." 

"'And  you've  got  it?" 

"  I  can  compound  it,  I  think.  It's  a  secret,  given 
me  fifty  years  ago  by  a  Parsee  in  Bombay.  He'd 
have  lost  his  life  for  having  given  it,  if  it  had  been 
known.  Let  me  have  some  of  your  drugs,  will  you?  " 


CURARE  339 

"  Help  yourself,"  answered  Marsh,  drying  his  hands. 

While  Laura  and  the  captain  watched  in  silence, 
Filhiol  opened  the  bag,  and  after  some  deliberation 
chose  three  vials. 

"  All  right,"  said  he.  "  Now  you  to  your  work, 
and  I  to  mine!  " 

"  Got  everything  you  need  ?  " 

"  I'll  want  a  hypodermic  when  I  come  back  —  if  I 
succeed  in  compounding  the  formula." 

"  How  long  will  you  be?  " 

"If  I'm  very  long  — "  His  look  finished  the  phrase. 
Laura  came  close  to  Filhiol. 

"  Doctor,"  she  whispered,  her  face  tense  with  ter 
rible  earnestness.  "  you  must  remember  the  formula. 
You  can't  fail !  There's  more  than  Hal's  life  at  stake, 
now.  The  captain  —  you've  got  to  save  him !  " 

"  And  you,  too !  Your  happiness  —  that  is  to  say, 
your  life!  "  the  old  man  answered,  laying  a  hand  on 
hers.  "  I  understand  it  all,  dear.  All,  perfectly.  I 
needn't  tell  you  more  than  that!  " 

He  turned  toward  the  door. 

"  Captain  Briggs,  sir,"  said  he,  "  I  was  with  you  in 
the  old  days,  and  I'm  with  you  now  —  all  the  way 
through.  Courage,  and  don't  give  up  the  ship !  " 


NEW   DAWN 

Twenty  minutes  later,  anxious  fingers  tapped  at 
Filhiol's  door. 

"  Come !  "  bade  the  doctor.     Laura  entered. 

"  Forgive  me,"  she  begged.  "I  —  I  couldn't  stay 
away.  Dr.  Marsh  has  got  the  wound  closed.  He 
says  that,  in  itself,  isn't  fatal.  But — " 

She  could  not  finish.  From  the  hallway,  through 
the  open  door,  penetrated  the  smell  of  ether. 

"The  captain's  been  just  splendid!"  said  she. 
"  And  Ezra's  got  his  nerve  back.  I've  helped  as  much 
as  I  could.  Hal's  in  the  berth  again." 

"  What's  his  condition?  " 

"  Dr.  Marsh  says  the  heart  action  is  very  weak  and 
slow." 

"  Respiration?  "  And  Filhiol  peered  over  his  glasses 
at  her  as  he  sat  there  before  his  washstand,  on  which 
he  had  spread  a  newspaper,  now  covered  with  various 
little  piles  of  powder. 

"  Hardly  ten  to  the  minute.  For  God's  sake,  doc 
tor,  do  something!  Haven't  you  got  the  formula 
yet?" 

"  Not  yet,  Laura.  It's  a  very  delicate  compound, 
and  I  have  no  means  here  for  making  proper  analyses, 
or  even  for  weighing  out  minute  quantities.  I  don't 
suppose  a  man  ever  tried  to  work  under  such  fearful 
handicaps." 

"  I  know,"  she  answered.  "  But  —  oh,  there  must 
be  some  way  you  can  get  it !  " 

Their  eyes  met  and  silence  came.  On  the  porch 
340 


NEW  DAWN  341 

roof,  below  the  doctor's  window,  the  rain  was  ruffling 
all  its  drums.  The  window,  rattled  in  its  sash,  seemed 
in  the  grip  of  some  jinnee  that  sought  to  force  en 
trance.  Filhiol  glanced  down  at  his  little  powders 
and  said: 

"  Here's  what  I'm  up  against,  Laura.  I'm  posi 
tively  sure  one  of  these  two  nearest  me  is  correct. 
But  I  can't  tell  which." 

"Why  not  test  them?" 

"  One  or  the  other  is  fearfully  poisonous.  My  old 
brain  doesn't  work  as  well  as  it  used  to,  and  after 
fifty  years —  But,  yes,  one  of  these  two  here,"  and 
he  pointed  at  the  little  conical  heaps  nearest  him  with 
the  point  of  the  knife  wherewith  he  had  been  mixing 
them,  "  one  of  these  two  must  be  the  correct  formula. 
The  other  —  well,  it's  deadly.  I  don't  know  which  is 
which." 

"If  you  knew  definitely  which  one  was  poisonous," 
asked  she,  "  would  that  make  you  certain  of  the 
other?" 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  not  at  all  understanding. 
"  But  without  the  means  of  making  qualitative  anal 
yses,  or  the  time  for  them,  how  can  I  find  out  ?  " 

She  had  come  close,  and  now  stood  at  his  left  side. 
Before  he  could  advance  a  hand  to  stop  her,  she  had 
caught  up,  between  thumb  and  finger,  a  little  of  the 
powder  nearest  her  and  had  put  it  into  her  mouth. 

"  Holy  Lord,  girl !  "  shouted  the  old  man,  springing 
up.  His  chair  clashed  to  the  floor.  "  How  do  you 
know  which  — ' 

"  I'll  know  in  a  few  moments,  won't  I  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  And  then  you'll  be  able  to  give  the  right  one  to  Hal?  " 

The  old  doctor  could  only  stare  at  her.  Then  he 
groaned,  and  began  to  cry.  The  tears  that  had  not 
flowed  in  years  were  flowing  now.  For  the  first  time 
in  all  that  long  and  lonesome  life,  without  the  love  of 


342  CURSED 

woman  to  soften  it,  he  had  realized  what  manner  of 
thing  a  woman's  love  can  be. 

She  remained  there,  smiling  a  little,  untroubled, 
calm.  The  doctor  blinked  away  his  tears,  ashamed. 

"  Laura,"  said  he,  "  I  didn't  think  there  was  any 
thing  like  that  in  the  world.  I  didn't  think  there  was 
any  woman  anywhere  like  you.  It's  too  wonderful 
for  any  words.  So  I  won't  talk  about  it.  But  tell 
me,  now,  what  sensations  do  you  get?"  His  face 
grew  anxious  with  a  very  great  fear.  He  came  close 
to  her,  took  her  hand,  closely  watched  her.  "  Do 
you  feel  anything  yet  ?  " 

"  There's  a  kind  of  stinging  sensation  on  my  tongue," 
she  answered,  with  complete  quietude,  as  though  the 
scales  of  life  and  death  for  her  had  not  an  even  balance. 
"  And  —  well,  my  mouth  feels  a  little  numb  and  cold. 
Is  that  the  poison?" 

'  Do  you  experience  any  dizziness?  "  His  voice  was 
hardly  audible.  By  the  lamp-light  his  pale  face  and 
widened  eyes  looked  very  strange.  "  Does  your  heart 
begin  to  accelerate?  Here,  let  me  see!  " 

He  took  her  wrist,  carefully  observing  the  pulse. 

"  No,  doctor,"  she  answered,  "  I  don't  feel  any 
thing  except  just  what  I've  already  told  you." 

"  Thank  the  good  God  for  that !  "  he  exclaimed, 
letting  her  hand  fall.  "  You're  all  right.  You  got 
the  harmless  powder.  Laura,  you're  —  you're  too 
wonderful  for  me  even  to  try  to  express  it.  You're  — " 

"  We're  wasting  time  here ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Every  second's  precious.  You  know  which  powder 
to  use,  now.  Come  along!  " 

"  Yes,  you're  right.  I'll  come  at  once."  He  turned, 
took  up  the  knife,  and  with  its  blade  scraped  on  to  a 
bit  of  paper  the  powder  that  the  girl  had  tested.  This 
he  wrapped  up  carefully  and  tucked  into  his  waistcoat- 
pocket. 


NEW  DAWN  343 

"  Downstairs,  Laura !  "  said  he.  "  If  we  can  pull 
him  through,  it's  you  that  have  saved  him  —  it's  you !  " 

The  thud  of  the  old  doctor's  feet  seemed  to  echo  in 
the  captain's  heart  like  thunders  of  doom.  He  got  up 
from  beside  the  berth  and  faced  the  door,  like  a  man 
who  waits  the  summons  to  walk  forth  at  dawn  and 
face  the  firing-squad.  Dr.  Marsh,  still  seated  by  the 
berth,  frowned  and  shook  his  head.  Evidently  he  had 
no  faith  in  this  old  man,  relic  of  a  school  past  and 
gone,  who  claimed  to  know  strange  secrets  of  the 
Orient. 

"  This  boy  is  dying,"  thought  Marsh.  "  I  don't 
believe  in  all  this  talk  about  curare.  He's  dying  of 
hemorrhage  and  shock.  His  pulse  and  respiration  are 
practically  nil  —  his  skin  is  dusky  with  suffocation 
already.  Even  if  the  old  chap  has  a  remedy,  he's 
too  late.  Hal's  gone  —  and  it  will  kill  the  captain, 
too.  What  a  curse  seems  to  have  hung  to  this  family ! 
Wiped  out,  all  wiped  out!  " 

In  the  doorway  appeared  Laura  and  old  Filhiol. 
The  girl's  face  was  burning  with  excitement.  The 
doctor's  eyes  shone  strangely. 

"Still  alive,  is  he?"  demanded  Filhiol. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Marsh.  "  But  you've  got  no  time 
for  more  than  one  experiment." 

"  Got  it,  Filhiol  ?  "  choked  the  captain.  His  hands 
twitched  with  appeal.  "  Tell  me  you've  —  got  it !  " 

"Water!  The  hypodermic  needle!"  directed  Fil 
hiol,  his  voice  a  whiplash. 

He  mixed  the  powder  in  a  quarter-glass  of  water, 
and  drew  the  solution  up  into  the  glass  barrel  of  the 
syringe.  Ezra,  unable  to  bear  any  further  strain,  sank 
down  in  a  chair,  buried  his  face  in  both  hands  and 
remained  there,  motionless.  Dr.  Marsh,  frankly  skep 
tical,  watched  in  silence.  The  girl,  her  arm  about 


344  CURSED 

the  captain,  was  whispering  something  to  him. 
Through  the  room  sounded  a  hollow  roaring,  blent  of 
surf  and  tempest  and  wind-buffetings  of  the  great 
chimney. 

Filhiol  handed  the  hypodermic  to  Marsh. 

"  Administer  this,"  he  commanded.  "  Your  hands 
have  been  sterilized,  and  mine  haven't.  We  mustn't 
even  waste  the  time  for  me  to  scrub  up,  and  I'm  tak 
ing  no  chances  at  all  with  any  non-surgical  condi 
tions." 

Marsh  nodded.  The  old  man  was  undoubtedly  a 
little  cracked,  but  it  could  do  no  harm  to  humor  him. 
Marsh  quickly  prepared  an  area  of  Hal's  arm.  rubbing 
it  with  alcohol.  He  tossed  away  the  pledget  of  cotton, 
pinched  up  the  bloodless  skin,  and  jabbed  the  needle 
home. 

"  All  of  it?  "  asked  he,  as  he  pushed  down  the  ring. 

"  All !  "  answered  Filhiol.  "  It's  a  thundering  dos 
age,  but  this  is  no  time  for  half  measures !  " 

The  ring  came  wholly  down.  Marsh  withdrew  the 
needle,  took  more  cotton  and  again  rubbed  the  punc 
ture.  Then  he  felt  Hal's  pulse,  and  very  grimly  shook 
his  head. 

"  Laura,"  said  he,  "  I  think  you'd  better  go.  Your 
father,  when  he  left,  told  me  to  tell  you  he  wanted 
you  to  go  home." 

"  I'm  not  afraid  to  see  Hal  die,  if  he's  got  to  die, 
any  more  than  I'm  afraid  to  have  him  live.  He's 
mine,  either  way."  Her  eyes  were  wonderful.  "  I'm 
going  to  stay!  " 

"  Well,  as  you  wish."  Dr.  Marsh  turned  back  to 
his  observation  of  the  patient. 

Filhiol  stood  beside  him.  Wan  and  haggard  he 
was,  with  deep  lines  of  exhaustion  in  his  face.  The 
old  captain,  seated  now  at  the  head  of  the  berth,  was 
leaning  close,  listening  to  each  slow  gasp.  Now  and 


NEW  DAWN  345 

again  he  passed  a  hand  over  his  forehead,  but  always 
the  sweat  dampened  it  once  more. 

"  Any  change?  "  he  whispered  hoarsely. 

"  Not  yet,"  Marsh  answered. 

"  It  couldn't  take  effect  so  soon,  anyhow,"  cut  in 
Filhiol.  "  It  '11  be  ten  minutes  before  it's  noticeable." 

Marsh  curled  a  lip  of  scorn.  What  did  this  super 
annuated  relic  know  ?  What,  save  folly,  could  be  ex 
pected  of  him? 

The  seconds  dragged  to  minutes,  and  still  Marsh  kept 
his  hold  on  the  boy's  wrist.  A  gust  of  wind  puffed 
ashes  out  upon  the  hearth.  Somewhere  at  the  back  of 
the  house  a  loose  blind  slammed.  The  tumult  of  the 
surf  shuddered  the  air. 

"Oh,  God!  Can't  you  tell  yet?"  whispered  the 
captain.  "Can't  you  tell?" 

"Shhh!"  cautioned  Filhiol.  "Remember,  you're 
captain  of  this  clipper.  You've  got  to  hold  your 
nerve! " 

The  clock  on  the  mantel  gave  a  little  preliminary 
click,  then  began  striking.  One  by  one  it  tolled  out 
twelve  musical  notes,  startlingly  loud  in  that  tense 
silence. 

Marsh  shifted  his  feet,  pursed  his  lips  and  leaned  a 
little  forward.  He  drew  out  his  watch. 

"  Humph !  "  he  grunted. 

"Better?"  gulped  Alpheus  Briggs.  "Better  — 
or  worse  ?  " 

"  I'll  be  damned !  "  exclaimed  Marsh. 

"What  is  it?" 

"Dr.  Filhiol,  you've  done  it!" 

"Is  he  —  dead?"  breathed  Laura. 

"  Two  more  beats  per  minute  already!  "  Marsh  an 
swered.  "  And  greater  amplitude.  Captain  Briggs, 
if  nothing  happens  now,  your  boy  will  live!  " 

The  old  man  tried  to  speak,  but  the  words  died  on 


CURSED 

his  white  lips.  His  eyes  closed,  his  head  dropped  for 
ward  as  he  sat  there,  and  his  arms  fell  limp.  In  his 
excess  of  joy,  Captain  Alpheus  Briggs  had  fainted. 

By  early  dawn  the  tempest,  blowing  itself  clean 
away  with  all  its  wrack  of  cloud  and  rain,  left  a  pure- 
washed  sky  of  rose  and  blue  over-arching  the  wild- 
tossing  sea.  The  sun  burned  its  way  in  gold  and  crim 
son  up  into  a  morning  sprayed  with  spindrift  from  the 
surf-charges  against  the  granite  coast.  All  along  the 
north  shore  that  wave  army  charged;  and  the  bell- 
buoy,  wildly  clanging,  seemed  to  revel  in  furious  exul 
tation  over  the  departed  storm. 

The  early  rays  flashed  out  billions  of  jewels  from 
drops  of  water  trembling  on  the  captain's  lawn. 
Through  the  eastward-looking  portholes  of  the  cabin, 
long  spears  of  sunlight  penetrated,  paling  the  flames 
on  the  hearth.  Those  flames  had  been  fed  with  wood 
surpassing  strange  —  with  all  the  captain's  barbarous 
collection  of  bows  and  arrows,  blowpipes,  spears  and 
clubs,  even  to  the  brutal  "  Penang  lawyer  "  itself. 

Before  the  fire,  in  a  big  chair,  Ezra  slept  in  absolute 
exhaustion.  Dr.  Marsh  was  gone.  By  the  berth  Fil- 
hiol  was  still  on  guard  with  Laura  and  the  captain. 
All  three  were  spent  with  the  terrible  vigil,  but  happi 
ness  brooded  over  them,  and  none  thought  of  rest  or 
sleep. 

In  the  berth,  now  with  open  eyes,  lay  Hal,  his  face 
white  as  the  pillow.  With  the  conquering  of  the 
paralysis,  some  slight  power  of  motion  had  returned 
to  him;  but  the  extreme  exhaustion  of  that  heavy  loss 
of  blood  still  gripped  him.  His  eyes,  though,  moved 
from  face  to  face  of  the  three  watchers,  and  his  blue 
lips  \vere  smiling. 

A  different  look  lay  in  those  eyes  than  any  that  had 
ever  been  there,  even  in  the  boy's  moments  of  greatest 


NEW  DAWN  347 

good  humor.  No  longer  was  there  visible  that  latent 
expression  of  arrogance,  of  power,  cruelty  and  pride 
that  at  any  moment  had  been  wont  to  leap  like  a 
trapped  beast  tearing  its  cage  asunder.  Hal's  look  was 
now  not  merely  weakness;  it  took  hold  on  gentleness 
and  on  humanity;  it  was  the  look  of  one  who,  having 
always  gloried  in  the  right  of  might,  had  found  it 
swiftly  turn  to  the  bursting  bubble  of  illusion. 

This  Hal  now  lying  bandaged  and  inert  in  the  old 
captain's  berth  was  no  longer  the  Hal  of  yesterday. 
That  personality  had  died ;  another  had  replaced  it. 
Something  had  departed  from  the  boy's  face,  never  to 
return  again.  One  would  almost  have  said  the  eyes 
were  those  of  madness  that  had  become  suddenly  sane 
—  eyes  from  which  a  curse  had  all  at  once  been  lifted, 
leaving  them  rational  and  calm. 

Hal's  eyes  drifted  from  the  old  doctor's  face  to  the 
captain's,  rested  a  moment  on  Laura,  and  then  wanderd 
to  the  fireplace.  Surprise  came,  at  sight  of  the  bare 
bricks.  The  captain  understood. 

"  They're  gone,  Hal,"  said  he.  "  Burned  up  — 
they  were  all  part  and  parcel  of  the  old  life;  and  now 
that  that's  gone  they  can't  have  any  place  here.  I 
know  you'll  understand." 

Hal  made  an  effort.  His  lips  formed  the  words 
soundlessly :  "  I  understand." 

"  He'll  do  now,"  said  Filhiol.  "  I'm  pretty  far  gone. 
I've  got  to  get  a  little  rest  or  you'll  have  two  sick  men 
on  your  hands.  If  you  need  anything,  call  me,  though. 
And  don't  let  him  talk!  That  punctured  lung  of  his 
has  got  to  rest!  " 

He  got  up  heavily,  patted  Hal's  hand  that  lay  out 
side  the  spread,  and  hobbled  toward  the  door. 

The  captain  followed  him,  laid  a  hand  on  his  shoul 
der. 

"  Doctor,"  said  he  in  a  low  tone,  "  if  you  knew  what 


•348  CURSED 

you've  done  for  me  —  if  you  could  only  under 
stand  — " 

"  None  of  that,  sir!  "  interrupted  the  old  man  sternly. 
"A  professional  duty,  sir,  nothing  more!  " 

"  A  million  times  more  than  that !  You've  opened 
up  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth.  You've  given  Hal 
back  to  me !  I  can  see  the  change.  It's  real !  The 
old  book's  closed.  The  new  one's  opened.  You've 
saved  a  thing  infinitely  more  than  life  to  me.  You've 
saved  my  boy !  " 

Filhiol  nodded. 

"  And  you,  too,"  he  murmured.  "  Yes,  facts  are 
facts.  Still,  it  was  all  in  the  line  of  duty.  We're 
neither  of  us  too  old  to  stand  up  to  duty,  captain.  I 
hope  we'll  never  be.  Hal's  cured.  There  can't  be  any 
manner  of  doubt  about  that.  The  curse  of  unbridled 
strength  is  lifted  from  him.  He's  another  man  now. 
The  powers  of  darkness  have  defeated  themselves. 
And  the  new  dawn  is  breaking." 

He  paused  a  moment,  looking  intently  into  the  old 
captain's  face,  then  turned  again  toward  the  door. 

"  I'm  very  tired  now,"  said  he.  "  There's  nothing 
more  I  can  do.  Let  me  go,  captain." 

Alpheus  Briggs  clasped  his  hand  in  silence.  For  a 
long  minute  the  hands  of  the  two  old  men  gripped 
each  other  with  eloquent  force.  Then  Filhiol  hobbled 
through  the  door  and  disappeared. 

The  captain  turned  back  to  Laura.  There  were 
tears  in  his  eyes  as  he  said : 

"If  there  were  more  like  Filhiol,  what  a  different 
world  this  would  be !  " 

"  It  is  a  different  world  to-day,  anyhow,  from  what 
it  was  yesterday,"  smiled  Laura.  She  bent  over  Hal 
and  smoothed  back  the  heavy  black  hair  from  his  white 
forehead.  "  A  different  world  for  all  of  us,  Hal !  " 

His  hand  moved  slightly,  but  could  not  go  to  hers. 


NEW  DAWN  349 

She  took  it,  clasped  it  against  her  full,  warm  breast, 
and  raised  it  to  her  mouth  and  kissed  it.  She  felt  a 
slight,  almost  imperceptible  pressure  of  his  fingers. 
Her  smile  grew  deep  with  meaning,  for  in  that  instant 
visions  of  the  future  were  revealed. 

The  sunlight,  strengthening,  moved  slowly  across 
the  wall  whence  now  the  kris  had  been  torn  down.  A 
ray  touched  the  old  captain's  white  hair,  englorifying 
it.  He  laid  his  hand  on  Laura's  hand  and  Hal's ;  and 
in  his  eyes  were  tears,  but  now  glad  tears  that  washed 
away  all  bitter  memories. 

From  without,  through  a  half-opened  window  that 
let  sweet  June  drift  in,  echoed  sounds  of  life.  Voices 
of  village  children  sounded  along  the  hedge.  Cart 
wheels  rattled.  The  anvil,  early  at  work,  sent  up  its 
musical  clank-clank-clank  to  Snug  Haven. 

From  an  elm  near  the  broad  porch,  the  sudden 
melody  of  a  robin,  greeting  the  new  day  after  the 
night  of  storm,  echoed  in  hearts  now  infinitely  glad. 


THE  END 


"STORM  COUNTRY"  BOOKS  BY 

GRACE  MILLER  WHITE 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.     Ask  for  Grosset  &  Dunlap's  list. 

JUDY  OF  ROGUES'  HARBOR 

Judy's  untutored  ideas  of  God,  her  love  of  wild  things, 
her  faith  in  life  are  quite  as  inspiring  as  those  of  Tess. 
Her  faith  and  sincerity  catch  at  your  heart  strings.  This 
book  has  all  of  the  mystery  and  tense  action  of  the  other 
Storm  Country  books. 

TESS  OF  THE  STORM  COUNTRY 

It  was  as  Tess,  beautiful,  wild,  impetuous,  that  Mary 
Pickford  made  her  reputation  as  a  motion  picture  actress. 
How  love  acts  upon  a  temperament  such  as  hers — a  tem 
perament  that  makes  a  woman  an  angel  or  an  outcast,  ac 
cording  to  the  character  of  the  man  she  loves — is  the 
theme  of  the  story. 

THE  SECRET  OF  THE  STORM  COUNTRY 

The  sequel  to  "  Tess  of  the  Storm  Country,"  with  the 
same  wild  background,  with  its  half-gypsy  life  of  the  squat 
ters — tempestuous,  passionate,  brooding.  Tess  learns  the 
"  secret "  of  her  birth  and  finds  happiness  and  love  through 
her  boundless  faith  in  life. 

FROM  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  MISSING 

A  haunting  story  with  its  scene  laid  near  the  country 
familiar  to  readers  of  "  Tess  of  the  Storm  Country." 

ROSE  O'  PARADISE 

"  Jinny"  Singleton,  wild,  lovely,  lonely,  but  with  a  pas 
sionate  yearning  for  music,  grows  up  in  the  house  of  Lafe 
Grandoken,  a  crippled  cobbler  of  the  Storm  Country.  Her 
romance  is  full  of  power  and  glory  and  tenderness. 

Ask    for  Complete   free  list  of  G.   6r   D.   Popular  Copyrighted  Fiction 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,        PUBLISHERS,         NEW  YORK 


JACK    LONDON'S    NOVELS 

Hay  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.     Ask  for  Grosset  &  Dunlap's  list 

JOHN  BARLEYCORN.    Illustrated  by  H.  T.  Dunn. 

This  remarkable  book  is  a  record  of  the  author's  own  amazing 
experiences.  This  big,  brawny  world  rover,  who  has  been  ac- 
yquainted  with  alcohol  from  boyhood,  comes  out  boldly  against  John 
[Barleycorn.  It  is  a  string  of  exciting  adventures,  yet  it  forcefully 
| conveys  an  unforgetable  idea  and  makes  a  typical  Jack  London  book. 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  MOON.    Frontispiece  by  George  Harper. 

The  story  opens  in  the  city  slums  where  Billy  Roberts,  teamster 
and  ex-prize  fighter,  and  Saxon  Brown,  laundry  worker,  meet  and 
love  and  marry.  They  tramp  from  one  end  of  California  to  the 
other,  and  in  the  Valley  of  the  Moon  find  the  farm  paradise  that  is 
to  be  their  salvation. 

BURNING  DAYLIGHT.    Four  illustrations. 

The  story  ot  an  adventurer  who  went  to  Alaska  and  laid  the 
foundations  of  his  fortune  before  the  gold  hunters  arrived.  Bringing 
his  fortunes  to  the  States  he  is  cheated  out  of  it  by  a  crowd  of  money 
kings,  and  recovers  it  only  at  the  muzzle  of  his  gun.  He  then  starts 
out  as  a  merciless  exploiter  on  his  own  account.  Finally  he  takes  to 
drinking  and  becomes  a  picture  of  degeneration.  About  this  time 
he  falls  in  love  with  his  stenographer  and  wins  her  heart  but  net 
her  hand  and  then — but  read  the  story! 
A  SON  OF  THE  SUN.  Illustrated  by  A.  O .  Fischer  and  C.  W.  Ashley. 

David  Grief  was  once  a  light-haired,  blue-eyed  youth  who  came 
from  England  to  the  South  Seas  in  search  of  adventure.  Tanned 
like  a  native  and  as  lithe  as  a  tiger,  he  became  a  real  son  of  the  sun. 
The  lif e  appealed  to  him  and  he  remained  and  became  very  wealthy. 
THE  CALL  OF  THE  WILD.  Illustrations  by  Philip  R.  Goodwin  and 
Charles  Livingston  Bull.  Decorations  by  Charles  E.  Hooper. 

A  book  ot  dog  adventures  as  exciting  as  any  man's  exploits 
could  be.  Here  is  excitement  to  stir  the  blood  and  here  is  pictur- 
'csque  color  to  transport  the  reader  to  primitive  scenes. 

THE  SEA  WOLF.    Illustrated  by  W.  J.  Aylward. 

Told  by  a  man  whom  Fate  suddenly  swings  from  his  fastidious 
jlife  into  the  power  of  the  brutal  captain  of  a  sealing  schooner.  A 
'novel  of  adventure  warmed  by  a  beautiful  love  episode  that  every 

reader  will  hail  with  delight. 

WHITE  FANG.    Illustrated  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

'-'White  Fang"  is  part  dog,  part  wolf  and  all  brute,  living  in  the 
frozen  north ;  he  gradually  comes  under  the  spell  of  man's  com- 
panionship,  and  surrenders  all  at  the  last  in  a  fight  with  a  bull  dog. 
Thereafter  he  is  man's  loving  slave. 

GROSSET   &   DUNLAP,  PUBLISHERS,    NEW   YORK 


DATE  DUE 


CAVLORD 


rftlNTCO  IN  U.S. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY TAG  LITY 


AA    001260197    7 


